


From the Depths of Darkness

by ForgottenJuliett



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: Eventual Dark!Harry, F/M, M/M, Multi, Necromancy!, Slytherin!Harry, Time-Travel!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-06-12
Updated: 2012-10-29
Packaged: 2017-11-07 13:59:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 30,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/431934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForgottenJuliett/pseuds/ForgottenJuliett
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry ends up being thrown out of the Dursleys household. Because of a Death Eater he gets sent back in time. How does his relationship with his parents and the people around him progress with the war raging around them? Necromancer!Harry. Slash</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Poetic Tragedy

**Chapter 1**. Poetic Tragedy

 

A year passed since the memorable evening when Albus Dumbledore and Minerva McGonagall doomed young Harry Potter to living with a human farmhouse. A horse, a walrus and a colourful beach ball, which was slowly but steadily becoming more like a pig, hated their unexpected relative with passion surpassing even that of Voldemort’s.

 

Luckily, Harry was still just a baby and physically unable to do the chores he would otherwise be made to do. Still, the main reason why the extent of the neglect and abuse he had to experience wasn’t as big as it could be was because of the strange things happenings everywhere around the child.

 

Of course, Petunia and, consequently, her husband Vernon knew about the wretched boy’s magic and what it entailed. The woman, after all, had to grow up with her freakish sister, and, no matter how much she hated them, she was pretty used to the frequent displays of accidental magic. What she wasn’t used to, however, was the sight of dead and rotting creatures roaming around the house.

 

Even with their general disgust and ignorance regarding the Wizarding world, the Dursleys knew that it wasn’t normal even for _them_.

 

It wasn’t normal to wake up to the chirping sounds of the previously dead parrot, which had been bought to their lovely Dudders on a whim and which everyone had been forgetting to feed. It wasn’t normal to have half-rotten mice and other rodents running around the house on their little feet, making small sounds day and night and disturbing whatever guests the Durseys wanted to invite. It wasn’t normal to see their garden dead and completely grey-coloured one day, only to find it filled with blooming flowers the next morning. It wasn’t normal to feel afraid, no, _terrified_ , of a small child, who could barely walk on his two feet and had a long road ahead of him to reach the table.

 

Wasn’t it ironic that the family that had always strived for normal life could never have it? Now, all their neighbours avoided the Dursleys like plague. Wherever the family went, people whispered behind their backs about the strange occurrences in the household. Petunia couldn’t trade gossip with her so-called ‘friends’, as they were offended and insulted at not being invited to her house anymore. Vernon’s job hung by a thread, because he, too, couldn’t hold proper dinner parties with investors and all kinds of influent people.

 

Out of the inhabitants of the house only Dudley was lucky enough to more or less avoid all this social assault and be able to lead the life of a happy toddler. Although he was constantly frightened by dead animals and insects. They had taken a great dislike towards him and were the cause of numerous accidents, during some of which he was seriously hurt.

 

All in all, the life of the family changed drastically in such a short span of time, going from peaceful and quiet to chaotic and hazardous. No one knew when it would all stop, but the patience of one Vernon Dursley was on the verge of ending.

 

XXX

 

“I’m sorry, Vernon, old friend, but I _have_ to fire you.” The director’s voice was apologetic and his eyes were staring at the stunned man in front of him with something akin to pity.

 

“B-but-“ Vernon spluttered, unable to utter a single coherent word.

 

“There are certain rumours,” the man behind the desk said and shook his head. It was truly a shame that he had to fire one of his best workers, but it had to be done. “Some of them are quite entertaining. And amusing. However, when I have to hear about people not wanting to conduct business with a dabbling in witchcraft demon’s spawn, it’s not something I can easily ignore, you know.”

 

“A demon’s spawn!”

 

“-When so many people talk about the matter,” the director looked up piercingly to meet Vernon’s eyes. “One has to wonder if there is a seed of truth to these rumours, after all.”

 

“Y-you believe this gossip more than me?” Vernon’s tiny eyes were wide with disbelief. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing from one of his childhood friends. “We have known each other for years!”

 

The director sighed and rubbed his temples. He had known it wouldn’t be easy. “Our company works with _people_ , Vernon. And if they don’t want you here, I’m sorry to say it, but you are of no use to us.”

 

Disbelief changed to anger and Vernon could feel his face heating up. He knew who was responsible for this. Who was to blame for all their misfortunes. This little shit had managed to spoil all their perfect _normal_ life and he was going to pay for that. Vernon would see to it.

 

The director watched warily as his ex-subordinate’s face went all red from rage, and pig eyes filled with deep hatred. He certainly hoped that his old friend wasn’t directing all this loathing at him.

 

“I have to ask you to clear up your working space now. The money has already been transferred to your account,” he said finally.

 

Vernon gave a curt nod and left. His fists were clenching and unclenching and he wanted to badly hurt this abomination, which ruined his life so completely.

 

XXX

 

 Petunia was watching television when she heard Vernon’s car pull to a stop at the driveway. She frowned at that. Her husband was usually the one to work till as late as possible to earn more money for their dear little angel, even if it meant working at weekends sometimes.

 

Coming from work so early was out of character for him and it made her feel wary. Her suspicions only increased as Vernon stormed into the house with the expression of someone ready to commit a murder.

 

“Umm, dear? Are you all right?” she asked hesitantly. The question ‘And why are you at home so early?’ was left unsaid, but both heard it anyway.

 

“Where is the freak?” he bellowed instead of answering. His eyes glinted with righteous fury and Petunia thought that he wouldn’t hesitate to hit her if she came in the way of whatever he was planning. Still, she had to try.

 

“In the cupboard, where he should be. He won’t be able to escape the place, hopefully. And there are no rodents there to gnaw on the locks, like it happened with the second bedroom. Why?” She tried to move in front of the staircase. Sure, she hated the boy and wanted him dead, but she wouldn’t let her husband go in jail for the little eyesore. She would help Vernon plan the murder so that it couldn’t be linked to them in any way. She had to preserve what was left of her respectable lady status.

 

Now, though, Vernon wasn’t able to think about planning and careful preparations because he just wanted this menace to be _gone_.

 

He roughly shoved Petunia to the ground. In his deranged state he didn’t even care about his wife’s surprised cry of pain or the fact that she could have broken a couple of her bones with the force he had pushed her. The man forcefully knocked the door of the cupboard down and froze at what was inside.

 

The two-and-a half-year-old child was sitting on the dirty mattress and was curiously watching the spiders dance on the floor in front of him. He looked up when he heard the noise and fascination in his eyes changed to confusion as he watched his Uncle stand in the doorway.

 

Vernon’s mouth was agape like that of a fish and he honestly didn’t know what to do. All his anger evaporated and pure animalistic _fear_ took its place. He remembered what the boy was. Petunia had stood up by now and, rubbing her aching back, scrambled to the door to see what had her husband so startled. When she saw the insects, she let out a horrified gasp.

 

It wasn’t just one spider dancing, no. That would probably be quite ordinary for their unnatural nephew. The entire floor was filled with the little creatures, which now began to escape the confines of the dark cupboard.

 

For the first time Petunia realized that maybe they shouldn’t have left the boy locked in hopes of starving him to death. Next time they should probably place him somewhere where there was no life _at all_. Their assassination attempt would have had more chances to succeed this way.

 

Well, they would deal with the problem after they have cleared the entire place of the spiders, who now seemed to be literally everywhere. They were on the walls and on the floor, on the expensive furniture and on the precious frames with Dudley in them.

 

Both Dursleys forgot all about the boy as they tried to kill off as many insects as possible. Vernon stomped on them with his enormous feet and his face was all red from the physical efforts he wasn’t used to doing. Petunia wasn’t faring much better. She took off her pink fluffy slippers and tried to destroy the spiders crawling on the nearest wall, letting out a battle cry with each hit.

 

All this time Harry was watching his two relatives with enjoyment and childish mirth dancing in his eyes, and clapped in his hands. One of his particularly loud giggles drew attention of the winded Vernon Dursley. The man stopped mid-motion and hatefully glared at the boy. The bastard was laughing at them!

 

“You! Stop it this instant!” he hollered and the walls shook from the sheer force of the cry.

 

Harry’s giggle died in his throat as he stared at his relatives in incomprehension. He couldn’t honestly understand why these people didn’t have fun as he did. So, with his confusion, eventually the spiders started dropping dead again because there was no emotion and magic to fuel them anymore.

 

The Dursleys were once again preoccupied with dodging the tiny bodies falling at them from the ceiling to pay any real attention to what Harry was doing. And right now the boy tried to escape from the cupboard. He had realized that, somehow, these two weren’t happy, and it never ended well for him when they were in such a peculiar mood.

 

“Where are you going, boy!” the horse-faced woman shrieked. She tried to go after him but Vernon beat her to it. He grabbed Harry by the collar of Dudley’s old shirt and smashed his fist right in the boy’s face.

 

Harry cried out in pain. He felt as if his face was one huge bruise, not unlike those on his ribs and arms. The obese man hit him a couple of times more before the boy lost his consciousness. Encouraged, Vernon tried to deal the last blows, and his wife’s cheers resonated in his ears together with the sound of his rapidly beating heart.

 

He lifted his hand to punch the freak once more, eager to get rid of this menace. Only…

 

The fist crashed into the invisible wall right in front of the boy and Vernon howled in pain, cradling his damaged hand.

 

“Vernon!” Petunia gasped and rushed to his side. She looked at her husband’s red knuckles and began moaning about how hurt he must be feeling. “Oh, dear, Vernon. Don’t you worry, my sweet, Petunia will take care of your injury, don’t worry. Everything will be all right, everything will be okay…”

 

The walrus slapped her hand away from him and scrambled to his feet. He glared hatefully at the boy he had dropped in his pain.

 

“It’s all this freak’s fault! All of it!” He tried to step on the boy but the wall was still there. He turned to his wife. “This fucking old man told us about these ‘wards’ or something, didn’t he?”

 

Petunia nodded, uncertain about where this was going. “Yeah. When he left _it_ on our doorstep. He wrote about them in the letter.”

 

Vernon smiled sinisterly. “We cannot kill the abomination, but we can get rid of him. Now, I’ll take the thing to London’s suburbs and dump him there.” He frowned when Petunia looked hesitant. “What’s up, Pet? Don’t you think it’s brilliant?”

 

His wife nodded vigorously. “You will make me the happiest woman on earth if you manage to put him out of our hair. But… don’t you fear that the car will get dirty with his dark powers?”

 

The man patted her back reassuringly. “Don’t worry about it, Pet. After this is over, we will buy a new car and a new home in a different neighbourhood. And we will become the family we have always wanted to be. _Completely normal_.”

 

He squeezed the woman’s hand and she smiled.

 

Yes, their life would be perfect after that. She was sure of it.

 

XXX

 

Augustus Rookwood swore loudly as he Apparated to the place he didn’t quite recognize. Well, obviously it was slums of some city, judging by the shady people around and dirty buildings. The man sneered and covered his brown hair with the hood of his cloak. Luckily, he had remembered to cast a notice-me-not charm on himself so that the muggles wouldn’t discern his presence.

 

Clearly, his efforts were unnecessary. The muggles living here were too engaged in their own dubious activities to give a damn about what other people were doing. Augustus cast a glance at a junkie slut bargaining with a drug dealer about the price of the pills. When the man let out a coarse laugh and grabbed the woman’s thighs, the wizard sneered and turned away from the disgusting sight.

 

Muggles. He couldn’t understand how someone could sympathize with the creatures sunk so low.

 

He thought about his Master, now presumably dead. Lord Voldemort was the only person in their time that had enough guts to stand up for blood purity ideals, a feat not even the most renowned pureblood families had managed to accomplish. It was much easier, after all, to stand aside and lament at how unfair things were and about their prejudiced society instead of actually doing something.

 

The Rookwood family was average enough and none of the members stood out in anything. They were well off, but not outstandingly so. They were smart, but their intelligence was that of a regular Ravenclaw. Their looks were also nothing much; most of the Rookwoods had brown hair and eyes to match. They didn’t even have an affinity for either Light or Dark magic and preferred to stay neutral in most wars.

 

Until Augustus came, anyway.

 

The man managed to get into the Department of Mysteries and become an Unspeakable to spy for their Lord. He wasn’t exceptional and wasn’t high up enough to know the darkest secrets of the Ministry. Nevertheless, he had an access to the underground laboratories, where he had managed to create quite a few of strong useful spells and inventions.

 

Augustus had no doubt that their Master would return one day and he had to be prepared for it. He wanted to be different from all those arrogant fools grovelling at his Lord’s feet. The fact that he craved His approval just as much didn’t count.

 

The brown-haired man was just escaping the dark alley when his attention was snapped to the roaring sound of engine. A moment later he saw a fat ugly man coming out of the car. The man bore an exceptional resemblance to a walrus with his brown moustache. In his hands he held a bundle of blanket, out of which strands of black hair peered.

 

What intrigued Augustus most, however, was the glare full of loathing that the man sent to the child (?) in his arms.

 

“Now you will die here, freak,” the walrus muttered, placing the bundle on the pavement near the wall. He disregarded the puddle nearby and almost kicked the boy, but then froze in fear, watching something in the far end of the alley.

 

Augustus turned to look in that direction, too. Yet he was disappointed. There stood nothing more than a foul-smelling rat. Its red eyes were fixed on the obese man, who gulped when the rodent came closer with a predatory grace.

 

“W-what?” the walrus stuttered. “A good ratty, good. You will not touch old Vernon, right? Look, there is this freak full of tasty meat for you, just don’t touch me, please.”

 

The man, Vernon, continued backing out until he felt the cool stone of a wall. Suddenly, there appeared one more rat, from the other corner of the alley. Then another. And again. Vernon broke out into sweat. Augustus watched with fascination how the events will unfold.

 

Vernon’s strangled outcry seemed to be a signal of some kind. All rats in the alley attacked him, tearing into his flesh. The man screamed in unbearable pain and tried to shake them off but didn’t succeed. There were more of them than he had originally thought.

 

A few minutes later the man was nothing more than a mess of blood and meat and bones. The rats stopped and then abruptly dropped dead all at once.

 

Augustus was left staring at the pile of flesh and red liquid. He blinked and shook it off. It wasn’t his business to know how muggle rats behaved. Maybe, the man had poison in his system. Or, maybe, it was normal for them. Who knew?

 

The man couldn’t help being curious, though, and he kneeled in front of the bundle. Lifting the colourful blanket, he gasped in surprise at the child’s face. The boy was sleeping soundly, his breathing so soft it was almost inaudible. His eyebrows were furrowed and he seemed to be in pain, having a nightmare, probably.

 

Most prominent, however, was the angry red scar against the pallor of his skin.

 

Augustus felt rage consume him. _This_ was the reason for their Lord’s downfall. The reason why he, Rookwood, had to hide in such a filthy places since his status as a Death Eater was discovered. The reason he had lost the only person who saw some worth in him. The reason most of the Dark purebloods were now hunted, and anyone from a remotely Dark family was sent to Azkaban, just for being who they were.

 

The child was Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Couldn’t-Even-Fucking-Die. The cause of all their pain and misery and unhappiness.

 

Augustus raised his wand, Avada Kedavra on his lips, but stopped abruptly. No, it wouldn’t do for the boy to die swiftly. He didn’t deserve it one bit. Augustus Rookwood would make him pay for all the inconvenience the child had caused. And he knew a way to do it.

 

One of the spells he had invented made a person experience pain worse than Cruciatus every second of their life. He had gotten the idea after reading about Norse snakes, whose venom, even a drop of it, caused unbearable pain to the person ingesting it. The wizard named it the Loki curse and was proud of his invention.

 

True, he hadn’t tested it and didn’t know whether it would work. Not to mention that it was a recent invention. Still, he had to try.

 

With a spiteful glint in his brown eyes the man raised his wand and spoke the spell.

 

A second later his eyes widened when he remembered to have made a mistake in the Arithmancy formula, which he hadn’t corrected yet. It was too late to do anything, though, and the resulting violent explosion was a proof of it.

 

XXX

 

 

_Year 1960_

 

Marie let out a contented sigh as she had just finished shopping for the orphanage. She knew that children weren’t allowed to eat much or to eat good food. So, she also had had to use her own money to buy some additional sweets. It wasn’t much, she knew, but children would be happy all the same.

 

The matron wasn’t a bad woman, since she had been an orphan herself and fully understood what it was like to be despised and looked down on. Unfortunately, their funds were low and they could afford only the bare minimum. The caretakers even had to sometimes deny themselves decent clothes to buy the children second hand winter coats.

 

Humming under her breath, Marie started walking towards St. Paul’s Orphanage. She was lucky the place was near; otherwise she wouldn’t have been able to carry all these heavy bags. She didn’t have enough money for any means of transport and always had to go on foot. Sometimes her acquaintance, an old man working at the factory, agreed to lend her his old truck. In these rare instances she could close her eyes and dream about expensive things, luxurious life and endless riches. If only her wish came true.

 

It was already quite dark when she neared the orphanage and saw a child right in the middle of the road. Appalled at the person who could abandon their kid in such a dangerous place, she dropped her bags and ran to the bundle of blankets.

 

It was a sleeping boy, who didn’t look like he could have walked even if she had woken him up. Marie hesitated. She didn’t want to leave the precious food here, but she was also afraid of leaving the child on the road, where a car could easily run him over.

 

She made her choice and placed the bags in the nearest bushes, opting to come for them later. The woman lifted the boy and made way towards the run down building. The child was light and she had no problem in carrying him.

 

“Marie! Why so long?” a plain-looking woman asked with a displeased expression. “Do you have no shame?”

 

“Children have been waiting for their food,.” another, older woman, joined. “You know we couldn’t buy them anything yesterday and they had to eat only bread for two days…” She trailed off, looking at what Marie was holding in her arms.

 

“I’m sorry; I understand it was selfish of me to take so much time…” Marie smiled hesitantly and gestured at the boy “Umm, we have an addition, as you see.”

 

The old woman, the matron probably, came closer and grabbed the boy. “Such a beautiful child…” she muttered. “Are you sure he was abandoned?”

 

“I… I don’t think any good parent will leave their child in the middle of the road to die.”

 

The matron looked at her sharply. It was one thing to get rid of the child, but it was inhumane to kill him. She looked at the quilt and saw the letters HJP engraved in golden stitching.

 

“HJP?” she read out loud. “Must be his initials.” It was strange that the boy’s clothing was so ragged and second hand, and the blanket was of fine material.

 

“Should we name him?”

 

“Obviously, we can’t call him by a letter,” the matron snapped, irritated.

 

“How about Hadrian James? Sounds nice enough to me,” offered the plump woman who had greeted Marie. Her face was clearly disinterested. She was used to getting new kids, after all.

 

The matron pondered on it. “All right,” she finally said. “Hadrian James it is. Any suggestions about his surname? Marie? Kate?”

 

“Umm… Paradis?” Marie timidly offered.

 

“God, Marie, you are so sentimental sometimes.” Kate sneered. “You can’t just go around giving your surname to the orphans.”

 

“It’s just that it matches his initials and…” Here Marie’s voice lowered into a whisper. “You know I wouldn’t live for much longer. I want my father’s surname to be passed down.”

 

Kate’s eyes softened and she looked at her fellow caretaker pityingly. Everyone here knew that the woman had some kind of weird disease and would live for only a couple of years longer. Marie was pretty useless, but the matron spared her and had given her a work here. From that moment they decided to keep her around to do some odd jobs and run errands. And children liked her, too.

 

“Hadrian James Paradis,” the matron murmured. “Not bad. Hope he will get along with other children.”

 

Unfortunately, her hopes wouldn’t come true.

 


	2. Chapter 2. A Strangled Dream

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: A lot of timeskips here! Just thought I should warn you in case you become too lost.

**Chapter 2. A Strangled Dream.**

 

“Pass me the ball, Jimmy!”

 

“Don’t be so slow, mate!”

 

“Ha-ha, loser! Look, he can’t even catch it!”

 

“Hey, you tripped me! Unfair!”

 

The loud chatter was heard all across the yard. The caretakers were often distracted from doing laundry by the boisterous laughs and occasional victorious cries. Strangely enough, it didn’t make them angry. On the contrary, the adorable sight of energetic little boys playing with the ball made many of those women smile fondly. The girls stared too, with dreamy expressions on their faces, especially when their gazes fell on Jimmy Bart, the orphanage’s little heart throb, who was basking under all the attention.

 

Apart from everyone, a little boy of six stared, too, with longing in his eyes. The shade of the large oak he was sitting under hid him from the view and enabled him to observe. The boy, Hadrian Paradis, closed his bright emerald eyes and sighed. He couldn’t decide whether to proceed with staring or try to ask the boys if he could participate.

 

_‘I doubt they will acknowledge me. They never do.  But maybe something has changed now?’_

 

He was thinking and wavering and couldn’t decide what would be the better course of actions. He had spent an hour there already, contemplating the situation and hesitating. The decision was made for him when Hadrian caught Jimmy’s gaze on him. The latter’s eyes brightened.

 

“Look! We were just thinking where to find one more member. Want to play with us?” he asked. Other boys looked at their captain incredulously.

 

“This-this is Paradis,” one of them whispered in a quiet tone that was meant to be whisper but wasn’t really one. “Are you mad? We’ll be cursed if we let him come anywhere near us!”

 

Jimmy looked puzzled. “Cursed?” He was a recent addition to their orphanage and didn’t know the other children all that well. He associated mostly with the girls hitting on him, and the boys he played football with.

 

The others nodded vigorously. “Yea, yeah. Milly told me about that one time she asked him on a date and they went into the forest together. She broke her leg there, you know.” This caused a horrified gasp from those who hadn’t heard this disturbing rumour yet.

 

Hadrian, who was watching this interaction with growing confusion, furrowed his eyebrows in thought. He couldn’t understand what they were talking about and how it was connected with him. Well, she did offend him with her comment about him being girly, but how could Milly’s broken leg be his fault? She hadn’t seen where she was going and tripped over a rabbit they hadn’t noticed before. She was the only one to blame, not Hadrian!

 

 _‘Though I wonder if it was a trick of light or if the rabbit was really all bloodied and smelled strangely.’_ He chose to stop thinking about it and shifted his eyes to the boys.

 

Jimmy had a wary look to him at first, but after he stared the boy in front of him up and down, noting the delicate built, longish black hair framing the pale thin face, he calmed down immediately and scoffed.

 

“Must be just gossip,” he said and shrugged. “He seems so weak that I think it would be impossible for him to break a fly’s leg, not to mention Milly’s. I wouldn’t call her thin by any means.” It was true. Hadrian was fragile by nature and the lack of proper food in the orphanage only emphasized the sharp features and frail bones.

 

The children snickered. “Oh, I wouldn’t say that to her face,” one of them remarked. “She packs quite a punch when you annoy her. I mean, how old is she? 13? And a leader of a gang to boot.”

 

Jimmy grinned in response and turned to Hadrian. “So, are you in?”

 

The raven-haired boy smiled timidly and accepted the ball from the hands of one of the boys, who kept a few steps away from him.

 

Hadrian had never felt this much fun before. He was content to play with the other boys, running and smiling without care in the world. He felt wind in his hair and gave a rare laugh. He thought that he would be the happiest person on earth if only he could do this more often, participate in games, communicate with people. To be accepted by others so easily wasn’t something he experienced often and it left a special kind of warmth in his chest, in his very heart.

 

“Someone, catch the ball! It’s heading to the pond!”

 

Hadrian’s attention was diverted from his merry thoughts and he saw that, indeed, the ball was going to land right in the middle of the greenish waters. He frowned. If it drowned, the matron would bite their heads off. He didn’t fool himself into thinking that the woman liked him. She would probably place all the blame on himself, and the other boys would go along with it, gladly agreeing to make him a scapegoat.

 

The matron wouldn’t buy them another ball for at least a year, maybe even more. There was no doubt about it. They didn’t have enough money to afford toys.

 

And Hadrian would never feel this acceptance, however reluctant, again.

 

The small boy felt his heart clench. This was the first time other children were so friendly towards him and the world be damned before he would let anything ruin the moment.

 

He mentally reached out to the ball and tugged and tugged and tugged. He willed the object to return to them, to _him_. He pleaded with it not to land in the dark waters of the pond, where no one would be able to reach it. Despite the small size, it was quite deep and Kate had even told them that one story about a girl who had drowned there.

 

No one knew if it was true but Hadrian wasn’t willing to chance it.

 

Miraculously, instead of sinking, the ball was levitated back by invisible force. It landed on the ground with a soft _thud_ and slowly began rolling towards stunned Hadrian. The boys all stared; some of the previously watching their game girls curiously came closer.

 

Hadrian decided to break the silence despite his own astonishment. Hesitantly, he picked up the round object and walked back to the astounded crowd.

 

“Here,” he said and offered a shy smile, which was more like a tentative curl of lips. “I stopped it from falling.”

 

_‘I hope they will like me after that if they know it was me.’_

 

The others stared at him. Hadrian was confused to notice that some of the gazes were frightful or downright horrified. He tilted his head in incomprehension. What had he done wrong? Shouldn’t they be pleased he had retrieved their only fun toy? And why were some of them backing away as if they had seen a ghost? Hadrian noticed how Jimmy’s toothy grin melted away as if someone suddenly wiped it off with a handkerchief.

 

“Umm, can we continue playing now?” Hadrian asked, still not understanding what the problem was. Were they all ill? “Aren’t you interested in which team will win?” He turned his head to the nearest boy, the one with copper hair.

 

The boy took a step back under the stare and held up his hands. “N-no, I think w-we should really return now. The d-dinner will be soon.” His stammering voice was like a signal, after which everyone present made affirmative sounds, agreeing with him, and scrambled towards the old run down building of the orphanage. Not even one child checked if Hadrian followed.

 

Admittedly, it hurt. But Hadrian swallowed the pain like he had done many times before. _‘At least, this time they included me for a bit,’_ he thought, looking at the ball in his hands.

 

He had noticed that at least one child’s reaction was not aghast but merely curious.

 

XXX

 

 

“Hey, Hadrian, are you ready to go?” Jimmy asked cheerfully, entering the cleanest room in the orphanage.

 

Hadrian was very lucky to live alone, without a roommate, unlike the other children. Even if it was in the attic. The room was neat and tidy, and Hadrian took time to clean it every day, scrubbing until there were no dirty spots left. On the other hand, his utter lack of possessions made cleaning much easier, and he didn’t have a lot of things to clutter the room with. Furniture included a cot to sleep on, a table with a crack on one of its legs and a wardrobe with the little clothing he had.

 

The room itself was tiny and dark; the only source of light being a small round window, which let only the brightest sun rays in. Usually it happened in the summer. Other seasons Hadrian had to use candles day and night. Seeing that he preferred to spend time here – not many children wanted to play with him outside – such dreary atmosphere didn’t help him to become all bright and sunny and social.

 

Not that people here would like him even if it were the case. For some reason, rumours seemed to appear wherever he went. And not the ones of a positive kind.

 

“Yeah, Jimmy. You go downstairs, I’ll join you in a minute,” Hadrian said absently, sending a small smile at the brown-haired blue-eyed boy.

 

Since that time with the game, Jimmy seemed to have taken a great interest in him. Somehow, the brunet never feared Hadrian’s strange abilities, asking him about how they worked instead. Other children hated Hadrian and were scared of him, but Jimmy made effort to insure that the raven-haired boy had someone to talk to and someone to tell his secrets to.

 

Not that Hadrian did much of the latter, mind you. While the idea of trusting someone was attractive, he honestly didn’t know how to tell somebody about what was troubling him, how to give form to the feelings residing inside of him. The boy couldn’t imagine the way he could tell a person about his suspicions of being somehow inhuman, of his secret abilities and internal struggle to become more outgoing, without coming across as terribly strange. Stranger than he was now, at any rate.

 

Hadrian let out a victorious smile as he finally found the ribbon for his shoulder-length raven locks. He tied it at the nape of his neck so that it wouldn’t come in the way, and took a black worn coat out of the wardrobe. Squaring his shoulders, the boy deemed himself presentable enough and went downstairs to join the group of other children.

 

Today they were going to church, as they did every Sunday morning.

 

When they entered the old building, Hadrian felt peace and serenity consume his whole being. He released Jimmy’s hand he had been holding the entire time, and took a step forward to the benches.

 

 Strangely enough, the place had always drawn him. Maybe, it was the odd contrast between the dark interior and the light atmosphere. Maybe, it was the quiet speech of the priest. Hadrian didn’t really care about the reason but he knew he liked the feeling.

 

The matron of St. Paul’s Orphanage, Mrs. Rickety, always attended the mass together with the children, as did caretakers. The woman was incredibly religious and if someone didn’t agree with the principles of Christianity, she would mercilessly fire them. Or punish, if this person was one of the children.

 

Hadrian couldn’t comprehend how Mrs. Rickety could have such unwavering faith in the God she hadn’t even seen, but knew he wasn’t in the position to ask. So, he followed others’ example, muttered greetings to Father Andrew and sat down on one of the benches, taking a psalm book from the nearest stand.

 

Soon, they began singing and, after that, they listened to the old priest talking about Christian God, Heaven and Hell. Hadrian entertained himself with thinking and dreaming during the entire speech; sounds lulling him into slumber. Sometimes he traded a few words with Jimmy to avoid falling asleep, but after the matron shushed them, decided to stay silent.

 

“Such nice children you have in the orphanage, Mrs. Rickety,” Father Andrew said with a benign smile. The matron beamed at him.

 

“Oh, thank you, Father,” she said and blushed. It was no secret the widow had liked the man for a long time. “We try our best to make them proper workers and citizens. I have managed to strike a deal with an acquaintance of mine, and you know what? He agreed to let them work at his factory when they are of appropriate age!”

 

“How wonderful! I’m certain it is something they wouldn’t have achieved by themselves.” Then the priest’s face became thoughtful and he tapped his chin. “You know that my confession booth is always open for you, my dear. I can clear these children of their sins, if you want me to. Not that I think there are many, but...”

 

“Just in case, yes. I think they will be happy to be cleared, Father,” the woman said, nodding.

 

The children all went to the confession booth one by one. Hadrian was the last and he felt quite nervous. He didn’t know what to speak about as he had never done something like that before. His anxiety was a knot in his stomach by the time he entered the booth.

 

“Umm… Father?” he asked hesitantly in the dark space, sitting on the hard wooden chair.

 

“My child, you shouldn’t be afraid to speak your mind here. It’s a place where you can confess anything without being judged for it.”

 

“But I don’t think I have committed any sins yet.”

 

“Each one of us is a sinner in a way.” Hadrian thought that by the priest’s voice he must be shaking his head. “And there is nothing peculiar you wish to tell me about? Nothing that weighs down on your conscience?”

 

Hadrian thought about it. There _were_ times when he had done unexplainable things he couldn’t find an explanation to. This man, the priest, had talked about angels and Jesus Christ. Maybe, Hadrian’s strange abilities had something to do with divine forces?

 

“Actually,” he started, “There have been quite a few things happening to me. I haven’t found an explanation for even one of them.”

 

“Ooh? How interesting… Explain, my child.”

 

“Well, there was this one time a boy said I looked weak and asked me if I was a girl. Then, he tried to punch me, but I… I made it so his boots caught fire and he was too preoccupied trying to put it out to really hurt me. I don’t know how it could happen. There were no sources of fire anywhere near. One second everything was all right and the next – he was screaming and calling for the caretakers.” Harry paused to see if Father Andrew was listening. Silence was his answer and the boy took it as a sign to continue.

 

“Another time something odd happened was when we were having some visitors. They were a man and a woman. The woman went to talk with Mrs. Rickety and the man…” Hadrian didn’t know if he wanted to continue. The memory was still enough to make him sick and to make the dark feelings in his heart beg to murder something. He could still feel the hands, the repulsive touches, which couldn’t go away no matter how much he showered. The awful feelings of utter helplessness and despair and deafeat; the strongest desire to just die and escape this misery.

 

“The man seemed rather nice at first,” Hadrian carried on. Maybe, if he told this priest about it, those emotions would finally go away. “He even gave me a candy, he did. He asked me to go for a walk with him and I agreed. I had nothing to do that day anyway. We were just walking across the field, on a small trope, when he placed his hands on my shoulders. H-he began saying something about how pretty I am.” The boy closed his eyes and willed himself to continue.

 

 _‘I need it. Everything will be better afterwards._ ’ The silence in the booth hadn’t been broken once. “He began… t-touching me. I was scared and wanted him to go away. I tried to run but he caught me quickly, he was so fast…”

 

Hadrian’s hands trembled and he glared at them for it. The boy inhaled loudly before continuing. “You know, Mrs. Rickety told us about pedophiles and what they do to children. I didn’t want him to touch me, so I wished for something to distract him so I could run. A swarm of flies rose from all around us and they flew to him like moths to fire. Only, the fire usually burns the moths, while those got into the man’s mouth and ears and nose… I didn’t stick around to see what happened to him, I just ran. But I haven’t seen him since.”

 

Hadrian finished the story and waited anxiously for Father Andrew to say something, _anything_. He twirled raven locks in his fingers and nibbled on his lower lip, wondering why the priest was so silent.

 

“Umm… Father Andrew?” he asked hesitantly. Could the man have exited without Hadrian becoming aware of it? It certainly seemed this way. He was too lost in the painful memories to pay any attention to what was happening around him, so he could easily miss the priest’s departure.

 

Hadrian knew he should have felt angry at such obvious dismissal, but he only felt relieved. Now he wasn’t so sure if he had done the right thing by telling about those oddities of his. None of the awful feelings he had seemed to go away and he felt cheated. It’s not like he didn’t trust the man but… just in case.

 

In the end, the boy shrugged his shoulders and escaped the booth. Jimmy was waiting for him.

 

XXX

 

In the evening Hadrian was surprised when the matron came up to his room, clad in a black dress and with a large cross shining on her chest. The boy had just prepared to go to sleep and couldn’t understand what did the woman want from him. He had already done his daily share of chores, after all.

 

“Get up, boy,” Mrs. Rickety ordered in a shaky voice. The fear in her eyes made Hadrian wary. She wasn’t a woman easily scared, years in an orphanage saw to it. “Get dressed and then we will go together to the church.” She left the room before he had a chance to say anything.

 

Now Hadrian was completely flabbergasted. What could the people of the church possibly want from him? Unless…

 

His expression turned hopeful. Perhaps, Father Andrew heard him and decided that Hadrian was an apostle of some sort. Or destined to be a priest himself, at least. After all, there wasn’t any other explanation for his strange powers, was there? This way he could leave this poor orphanage with its bad food and hand-me-downs, and become a monk, spend his time with books and, occasionally, Jimmy, who would surely come to see him.

 

The trip to the church was almost silent, save for the rare questions from Hadrian, which were never answered. It was as if the woman walking alongside him turned off all the sound.

 

“You are right on time.” Came the solemn voice of Father Andrew.

 

Hadrian curiously looked around. The shadows of the night made the usually tranquil atmosphere eerie and threatening. The only source of light was from the dim-lighted torches on the walls. The altar under the huge colourful windows depicting saints, was surrounded by the nuns, who were chanting something under their breath. Probably, a prayer. The priest stood on the uplifted platform, directly behind the altar, facing the newcomers.

 

“I’ll leave it to you, Father,” Mrs. Rickety said grimly and, after a nod from the man, left the place, not without casting a final glance at the boy. There was something akin to pity in her eyes and it made Hadrian admittedly uncomfortable.

 

_‘Why did she look at me like that? Is there a reason? She has never seemed to care about me before.’_

 

“Why have you called me here?” the fragile boy asked uncertainly. Sure, he loved coming to the church during the day, but now all he wanted was to return back to the orphanage, no matter how bored he was there.

 

Father Andrew looked at him gravely and his eyes carried the wary sadness of a man who had seen too much evil in the world. “My boy, I have certain suspicions about you being,” he made a dramatic pause, “possessed by a demon!” All the nuns in the room gasped at the proclamation and crossed themselves frantically.

 

All Hadrian felt, however, was bewilderment. He had read in the books the matron often made them read, about demons and possessions, and, according to them, the possessed people had gaps in their memory and felt inexplicable urges to hurt others. Hadrian had always been a quiet child, not very talkative, and unbearably shy. The only times he hurt a person were when they truly deserved it, pushing him to his limits and making him lose control of whatever powers were inside of his body.

 

“I think you are mistaken, Father,” Hadrian said quietly. He knew what the clergymen thought about demons, not to mention _did,_ to the people they deemed as such. And it wasn’t something he wanted to experience.

 

“There is no mistake, child!” The man cried out with a fanatical gleam in his eyes, and began to descent from the platform and slowly stalk over to the boy. Hadrian quickly realized by the old man’s expression that he had already made up his mind and nothing would convince him of the fault in his thinking. “After what I’ve heard from you and Mrs. Rickety… She told me how you drown cats and dogs, beat up other children and steal food from the kitchens! Such a kind and noble woman will never lie!”

 

“What a despicable child!” “He must be punished!” “We must clean him of the demon’s influence!” Came the horrified and agitated screams from the nuns.

 

“I never did that!” Hadrian exclaimed, not wishing to believe that this injustice was real and happening to him right now. “She must have been speaking about Ben Jonathan, the bully! He always hurts other children when they do something he doesn’t like! And he-“

 

The priest grabbed the boy by his collar, effectively silencing him. “I know, it is the demon talking now. A good boy like you should be will never tell such lies and badmouth people!”

 

Hadrian struggled as Father Andrew roughly dragged him to the altar, which was covered in white linen cloth. The hold was painful, and the boy felt himself suffocating; the man’s wrinkly fingers never leaving his tattered shirt. He tried to kick, but one of the nuns took his legs in her hands and refused to let go. Father Andrew adjusted his hold and grasped the boy by the hands instead.

 

“Don’t struggle, child. I swear we will cleanse you of the evil residing in your body!” he told the frightened boy. They placed him on the altar and bound him with the ropes, attached to the four hooks on the sides of the chancel.

 

“Don’t worry, dear, after everything is over you will feel much better,” one of the nuns told him kindly with a gentle and reassuring smile, tying a knot on the ropes. Hadrian didn’t care what would be after. He wanted to get out of here _now_.

 

Then they all began chanting something, and the boy wanted to cover his ears to protect them from the sound reverberating all around. The sound was suffocating in its intensity and grated on his nerves so much that it hurt. He felt as if they were strangling him; there was just this _something_ inside his body, his very soul even, that begged him to break free and to stop the chanting this second.

 

It was a ritual of some kind, Hadrian realized. They were trying to exorcise a ‘demon’ from him, using this painful, inhumane method. He felt tears stream down his cheek and he couldn’t even wipe them off his face, with his hands still bound tightly by the ropes. The ropes were stringing his hands and legs so strongly and painfully that he was sure they would leave ugly red signs, which wouldn’t go away for another couple of weeks.

 

His eyes widened in fear when he saw Father Andrew pull out a knife out of his white robes. _‘No, no, pleas, this can’t happen, not to me…’_ This deafening thought resonated loudly in his head and managed to drown out even the thunderous mantra.

 

The knife glinted dangerously in the dim lighting and was the most prominent thing in the whole church. The only other thing that shone just as brightly was the statue of a crucified Jesus above the wide doors. Hadrian was willing to pray to any deity if it meant getting out of here.

 

“O Lord, Almighty God of our fathers,” the priest began, making bizarre passes with his hands. Hadrian somehow managed to drown out the pain of the song to look, as if hypnotized, at the glinting ritual knife moving together with the man’s hands. “whom all men fear, and tremble before thy power. Hear me when I call, O God of my righteousness!”

 

There was power behind these words, power both repulsive and strangely enticing. That part of him that hurt the most wanted to be lulled by it, to go wherever the priest wanted it to be directed. The other, more sensible part of Hadrian, warned him against listening, urged him to break the bindings and flee.

 

“This Childe is being possessed by the servant of Lucifer, the Fallen One; his body hosts the great evil, surpassed only by that of Devil himself. Hear my plea, Almighty Lord, and save this Childe, one of your sons, from the wicked and malevolent powers that want to drink his life and cause the horror among honest people. O God, give me the power to purify this vile body of the foulness it contains!”

 

The nuns began to quickly undress him and Hadrian couldn’t take it anymore. The touch resembled greatly the way that man had touched him. It wasn’t a feeling he wanted to experience ever again.

 

“Please… stop,” he whispered brokenly. His words fell on deaf ears as the women had almost finished unbuttoning his shirt by now. Only one of them glanced at him sorrowfully before returning to her chore. “Please, don’t do this to me, I beg you!”

 

He pleaded and begged and beseeched, yet not even one woman spared him a glance anymore. The previously loud chant had lowered to almost a whisper, and Father Andrew was standing above the boy with a victorious grin, which made his wrinkles, as well as other signs of old age, stand out even more.

 

The shirt was off now and the man lifted his hand with a shimmering knife in it to make a slashing motion across Hadrian’s chest.

 

That was the moment the boy couldn’t take it anymore. He screamed and just as the earsplitting sound escaped his throat, the priest finished the ritual with “Amen”.

 

The colourful windows above them exploded and the shards fell on Father Andrew and his nuns.

 

“Aarghhh!” The scream was deafening and Hadrian could finally cover his ears with his hands, which had been released by the falling glass cutting off the ropes. The black and white figures around him tried to shield their faces, but the smallest pieces managed to get into their eyes anyway. One of the women, the nun who had talked to him gently in the beginning and was standing the farthest from the window, stepped back just in time before a particularly large shard could hit her in the head. Others tried in vain to get away but got slightly injured nonetheless.

 

Father Andrew’s condition was the worst, though. He had been right below the windows when they exploded and his entire body was covered in gashes, some of which went as deep as his bones. The blood under him was pooling up and the sheer quantity of it made Hadrian both sick and fascinated. He had never thought that a human body could contain so much vital liquid, but here was the proof.

 

The nuns, all but one, were too preoccupied with their own injuries to notice when the man lifted his head from the floor to look Hadrian right in the eye.

 

“Y-you…” he said in a petrified whisper, raising an accusing finger at Hadrian and staring at him as if the boy were Devil incarnate. This horror-struck expression on the old man’s face made the boy’s stomach churn with uneasiness. The man didn’t say anything else because his eyes rolled into his head and Hadrian felt compelled to close the lids to not see the frightening whites. He fell on his knees and did exactly that.

 

When he lifted his head, he met the wide eyes of the nun who had suffered the least. His heart skipped a beat. He didn’t know how she would view him sitting on the cluttered floor, all bloodied, and with the priest’s head in his hands. All others were still struggling to pull the glass shards out of themselves. None of them seemed too hurt, though. Not lethally, at least.

 

The woman standing in front of him let out a shaky breath. “I won’t tell,” she promised softly, her eyes pained. Hadrian could feel her fear but he could also feel something akin to resolution coming from her in vibes. “What we tried to do was immoral and inhumane. I’m sorry. We shouldn’t have made a child suffer so.”

 

“Thank you,” Hadrian said quietly after a moment of having a staring contest with her. The woman nodded simply, still trembling, and turned away.

 

The boy stood there a few more moments before deciding to return to the orphanage. He washed his hands and face in the consecrated water, thanking God that he hadn’t gotten any injuries at all, other than the still echoing sounds of the chant in his ears. After that was done and he was clean again, he grabbed his worn coat and escaped this place, vowing to never go there again. He wondered what excuse would the woman come up with for all these injuries and a death.

 

XXX

 

It was almost midnight again and Hadrian was doing maths homework for the next day. The education in the orphanage wasn’t obligatory and some children often chose to ignore it or slacked off, opting to learn only the pure basics, like counting and reading. The school they went in was small and the teachers there couldn’t be called the epitome of competence or patience. The knowledge gained at school wasn’t particularly profound either; the textbooks were too outdated to hold information relevant to the modern world. The graduates usually found it impossible to enter a good university, so working was the best way to start earning money and get a life outside of this dreary place on the outskirts of London.

 

Hadrian, however, understood the importance of knowledge and how it would help him in life. After all, if you compare the salaries of an average factory worker and a high-qualified specialist, the chances to break free from the orphanage were higher if you were the latter.

 

And the boy did want to leave this place for good. St. Paul’s Orphanage couldn’t exactly be called the most horrid place on earth, no. The caretakers and the matron were mostly indifferent to everything, not friendly but, thankfully, not abusive drunkards either. The children had something to eat, even if the food included only a piece of bread and water for breakfast sometimes. The clothing also wasn’t rich – each orphan was entitled to have a pair of boots, a couple of shirts and trousers, underwear, pyjamas and a warm winter coat. They wouldn’t be allowed in any luxurious restaurant or shop in this kind of clothing, but it was enough to get by.

 

Most of the children there hadn’t known any other life before, so for them it wasn’t such an outrage or a tragedy to lead the life different from that of the children of solid middle-class families.

 

The problem was with the children’s character. Some of them came from the families, where the husband was an alcoholic and the wife was a druggie, and the child was mostly neglected until they were taken to the orphanage. Many of them had seen things no _adult_ should ever see, and this left a great impact on their psyche and personality. There were quite a lot of bullies and apathetic children, who either didn’t care about anything or hit others to get what they wanted.

 

Thanks to the rumours flying all around him, Hadrian managed to mostly avoid associating with both categories – and associating in general – but the threat was still there.

 

“A penny for your thoughts?” Came a voice just behind his ear and the boy whirled around in his chair, peering through the fringe at his best – and only – friend at the orphanage. It was actually forbidden for children to go out of their rooms at late hour, but Jimmy disregarded the rules and went to see the raven-haired boy anyway.

 

Hadrian smiled brightly at Jimmy and put his almost finished homework away for the time being. “Nothing. Just thinking about Ben Jonathan and the likes. Don’t know why he came to my mind.”

 

  1. Jimmy grimaced. “I hate the git,” he muttered under his breath, sitting on Hadrian’s cot. “Still can’t forget the time he stole my birthday pie.”    



 

“Don’t exaggerate. It was only a large piece of it, not the whole thing,” Hadrian said, shrugging. When his friend looked up in irritation for not agreeing with him and opened his mouth to say something, the boy continued. “Though I admit not being overly fond of the guy myself.”

 

“He is nasty. And the caretakers always stand aside when he does something mean. He almost never gets punished. It’s so unfair! I wish I could be like that, too.”

 

“You wish to bully other children?” Hadrian raised an eyebrow, feeling apprehensive all of a sudden.

 

“N-no! How could you think that!” Jimmy exclaimed indignantly and his cheeks tinted red. “I just can’t understand why everyone favours him. He’s nothing special, I’m sure you can see it, too.”

 

Hadrian nodded. “Isn’t it obvious? He always sucks up to Kate, and she lets him do whatever he wants unless it’s something really wrong. I think he has too kill someone or steal a very important object for her to punish him.”

 

Jimmy looked thoughtful. “How does he do it? I mean, I’ve never seen him being too pleasant even with her.”

 

“Ben has a cute face. Women usually love such children, so he doesn’t really have to do anything. Just stand there and be adorable and make a teary face. And caretakers usually fall for it.” Hadrian paused and added, as an afterthought. “I think you could pull it off, too, if you wanted to.”

 

Jimmy looked strangely excited at his last words. “But how do you know such things anyway? No offend or anything, you are not really outgoing.”

 

“I observe a lot,” Hadrian said, shrugging, and decided to continue working on his homework. He never noticed the thoughtful and sly look on Jimmy’s face.

 

XXX

 

“Let’s go, Hadrian!” Jimmy whined in his ear. “It’s boring to play with only two of us. We can go join others. It’ll be more exciting.”

 

Hadrian winced at the words and tried to hide his hurt at being called boring. “I think they won’t be happy if I am there,” he murmured softly, remembering the faces the other children in the orphanage regarded him with.

 

No one had forgotten Milly’s broken leg or the strange incident with Father Andrew a couple of months ago. True, officially, some teenagers playing with explosions were to blame, but somehow the rumour got around that he had been there. Hadrian couldn’t understand how it got out; the nun’s lips were zipped, and he himself had only told Jimmy about it. And Jimmy was his closest friend.

 

‘I’m sure he would never tell somebody my secrets,’ Hadrian thought, looking at his friend’s flustered face.

 

“Until they tell you in the face they don’t want you around, it’s all right, I guess,” the brown-haired boy said and waved his hand dismissively. His eyes were glued to the other boys yet again playing with the ball. “We’ll be considered hermits, you know. I don’t want it. I want to be popular, like Ben.”

 

“I don’t think Ben Jonathan is someone worthy looking up to,” Hadrian said dryly and looked at the soft grass they were sitting on.

 

“Everyone likes him. Well, other than the children he bullies. But that’s beside the point, I think.”

 

“Don’t be so dismissive to other people’s pain. It may lead to their need for revenge.”

 

“Don’t talk so smartly, Hadrian. You know I don’t like you when you do that,” Jimmy said and the grimace that briefly flashed on his face made him look unattractive.

 

“True friendship means that friends will still like each other despite the way they talk or behave.” Hadrian remembered the phrase he had read in an essay on friendship the other day, looking up sharply at his standing friend. His emerald eyes glowed eerily under his raven fringe, and were so huge they made his entire face seem thinner and sharper.

 

Jimmy sneered. “Does that mean we are not true friends, then?”

 

Hadrian wanted to say _‘Of course, we are friends’_ , but lately he began to doubt it a bit.

 

“You have become so bossy lately,” he said instead. “And arrogant. As if you believe you are the best, superior to me, to Kate, to everyone. You don’t want to spend much time with me anymore. You began to behave like that ever since you found out that I cannot do anything unusual anymore.”

 

And it was true. Maybe it had really been a demon residing in him. Now Hadrian didn’t feel this strange tug in his chest whenever he wanted to retrieve an object or make flowers bloom. Frankly, it worried him because he didn’t want to imagine what would happen if the others notice how his powers don’t protect him anymore. He was sure he would be targeted.

 

“I’m not bossy!” Jimmy yelled furiously with a deep blush on his cheeks. “It’s just that you are not entertaining anymore. Other boys don’t like to spend time with you. They think you are a creep.”

 

“And what do _you_ think? Do you share their opinion?” Hadrian asked softly. His heart clenched in anticipation. He feared of what he might hear. Yes, Jimmy had become quite haughty and overbearing lately, what’s with his obsession with Ben, but he still was the only person Hadrian was close to. He couldn’t imagine how dull life would be without their games and midnight conversations.

 

Jimmy looked at Hadrian as if weighing his words. “I think you are,” he confirmed finally.

 

Hadrian felt sharp pain as if his heart had shattered into thousands of tiny pieces, which would never be pulled together again. He watched his frie- _ex-friend now_ , he reminded himself, and couldn’t believe he had associated with this person for so long.

 

“I mean,” Jimmy continued, too absorbed in his speech to notice Hadrian’s heartbroken expression, “Ben said so. And he’s cool, and everyone believes him, even caretakers! And- Yeah, anyway, when he told me about it, I didn’t want to believe it at first. But then I thought more, and realized he’s right.”

 

“You believe him more than me? Your friend?” Hadrian decided he wouldn’t burst out crying now, in front of the whole yard. Luckily, they were still speaking quietly, neither wanting the others to hear their spat.

 

Jimmy looked uncomfortable at the words. “Yeah, you were my friend, but… It was Ben who said it. And guys agree with him.” Then his eyes became bright and an excited expression appeared on his face. “You know, he offered me to be part of his group, but only if I stop talking to you. They hate you a lot. Now that I think about it, why couldn’t I see it earlier? You’re strange. And you’re unpopular. And you don’t even have your freaky skills anymore.”

 

Jimmy cast the last glance at the fragile boy sitting in front of him and said, “I want to be loved. With you, it’s impossible. If someday you become well-liked, call me. But I doubt it will ever happen, you are too strange for that.” And he left, leaving Hadrian alone on the grass.

 

 _‘I, too, wonder how I couldn’t see your real character before,’_ the boy thought dully, staring into space. Oddly enough, after the initial burst of pain, he didn’t feel anything. Their friendship had always been fake, so what was the use of crying over something that had never existed in the first place?

 

XXX

 

A year later he was yet again sitting under the large oak on the far side of the yard. Throughout years it had become his favourite place, where he could come and think without being disturbed or made to do more chores. The dark shade was both cool and concealed his presence well.

 

Well, most of the time. Apparently, today was an exception.

 

“You are going to catch a cold if you don’t put a scarf on. It’s almost autumn already, if you haven’t noticed.” The voice was calm and pleasant, completely unsuitable for the girl standing before him.

 

Milly Spice, the girl, whose leg he had supposedly broken a year and a half ago. She was an outcast just like him, and the boy could sympathize with her. However, the reason for their peers to dislike her were completely different from the reason they disliked him.

 

She wasn’t a beautiful person. She was sturdy, fat and ungraceful, with a heavy jaw and bushy eyebrows. Her personality wasn’t all that good either; the girl utterly lacked the kind of friendly and endearing charm plump people usually had. Her sharp and critical mind didn’t make other children love her either. Sometimes, even the caretakers were afraid of her disparaging remarks.

 

Not to mentions that there were rumours flying around that she was in a gang.

 

Hadrian wondered what drove her to talk to him, seeing that she was much older than himself, which he didn’t hesitate to ask right away.

 

“Is it that strange for a person to be interested in you?” the girl inquired, joining him on the grass, and warped a thick scarf around his delicate neck. He immediately felt himself become warmer.

 

“You are not afraid of me.” Somehow, it came out more like a statement rather than a question.

 

Milly looked at him and the boy squashed the urge to quiver under her penetrating gaze. “They say you are a devil. I think it’s bullshit.”

 

Hadrian didn’t know what to think or do. No one had ever said something like that to him before. The words left a warm feeling in his chest, and he wondered if he could make a new friend now, a true one this time.

 

“You shouldn’t swear, it’s unsightly,” he chastised the girl, deciding to analyze his perplexing emotions later, in the safety of his room. “And you are a girl on top of that, too.”

 

Milly looked unimpressed at the mild rebuke. “So what? Are you one of those guys who believe that a girl should stay at home, look pretty and satiate all her husband’s hungers?”

 

“Of course not!” Hadrian blurted out and blushed, looking down in slight embarrassment. _‘I really am no good while dealing with people.’_ He lowered his voice as he said, “It’s just what people usually think, isn’t it?”

 

“And you always agree with other people’s way of thinking? I’m disappointed. You seemed way different to me.” Her voice reeked of disenchantment and the boy felt an unexpected urge to rephrase his words.

 

“I don’t agree with them,” Hadrian said, shrugging uncomfortably. “But my opinion doesn’t really matter, right?”

 

Milly stared at him with a raised eyebrow. “I asked you. I wouldn’t have done it if I hadn’t wanted to hear what you say.”

 

“You are strange, do you know it?” Hadrian asked with creased eyebrows. No one had ever talked to him like that. He couldn’t understand this girl at all. “Why have you come here? Others don’t like me much.”

 

“What an understatement,” Milly muttered and peered at Hadrian. “It’s impossible to not notice. I’d say they truly hate you. Sorry for being rude, but-“

 

“It’s all right,” Hadrian interrupted. “You shouldn’t be sorry for saying the truth, no matter how hurtful it is.”

 

Silence fell on the two, and, strangely, it wasn’t uncomfortable. Hadrian could freely enjoy listening to the birds singing and observing some girls playing tag nearby.

 

Milly decided to break the silence, however comfortable it was. “Aren’t you, you know, lonely?”

 

Hadrian thought about it. Was he lonely? Maybe, a bit. But certainly not enough to start actively seek people’s presence. After Jimmy betrayed his trust so completely he didn’t know if he wanted to have close relationships with other people if it meant getting hurt.

 

“Not really,” he answered honestly. It seemed like honesty was indeed the best policy with this sharp and strange girl who decided to spend time with him all of a sudden, breaking his quiet solitude. “Just bored. I don’t know what to do to pass time. Surely, there is homework to do, but in summer…”

 

“Don’t you know that there is such thing as reading for pleasure?” Milly demanded, eyes wide with bewilderment and something resembling sympathy. Now it was Hadrian’s turn to stare at her incredulously.

 

“And where do I find books for light reading in the orphanage?” he asked sarcastically. The mere idea seemed foolish and impossible. “The only books I own were presented to me by Kate for my birthdays, and they are old children’s books. I can hardly read them anymore. People will laugh at me if I go around reading them.”

 

“Well, it’s not like you have anything to lose. They already dislike, it will be nothing new,” Milly said wisely, her small blue eyes closed.

 

“Thanks for reminding me.” Hadrian’s expression was sour and he turned away, watching the wind play with the leaves on the ground, shuffling them around. He didn’t like it when people pointed out the obvious.

 

The girl shrugged unconcernedly, clearly not ashamed of speaking her mind. In this moment Hadrian could easily see why others seemed to dislike her. Such attitude didn’t inspire love and adoration. He wondered why he was still talking to her. “Think nothing of it. That’s what friends are for.”

 

The phrase stopped Hadrian’s train of thought and he stared at the girl with an indescribable expression. Not even Jimmy openly admitted that they were friends unless it was dragged out of him by Hadrian’s pleading puppy eyes or words. _‘Then again, haven’t we already established that the guy is a traitorous back-stabbing git?_ ’ he thought, furiously berating himself for even remembering the other boy. Their ‘friendship’ was done and over with. No use in being reminded of it every day.

 

Milly looked at his expectant face and winced. “What? I would like to get to know you closer. If you don’t mind, of course.” A small blush adorned her pale grayish skin. She preferred to spend time inside of the building instead of playing outdoors, and thus was able to become the most knowledgeable person in their orphanage despite being only fourteen. This, however, also meant that her ugly skin colour wouldn’t do any justice to her already mismatched features.

 

Hadrian pondered on her words. _‘Well, she certainly seems nice enough, even if she is a bit too rude at times. It doesn’t mean, though, that I will trust her. Much.’_

 

“Let’s try it,’ he finally relented and run a hand through his hair. Absently, he reminded himself to ask Kate for another hair tie or ribbon. His hair had already reached his shoulder blades and was becoming quite uncomfortable to wear as it frequently got into his eyes.

 

“That’s it?” Milly brought a finger to her lips questioningly and raised her eyebrow. She seemed to like to do that a lot. “No questions about ‘why’ or ‘for what reasons’?”

 

Hadrian shrugged and looked up at the sky above them. It was nearing dinner time and they would have to get back soon. “We are both loners. I think the reason should be obvious. You did want to speak with me that time in the forest, remember? And I saw you wishing to talk to me a few times since then.” He paused and then grimaced. “I guess I was too absorbed in Jimmy to pay any attention to it.”

 

Milly smirked. “You’re quite observant for your age. I’m happy you have realized that Bart is a real jerk. He’s like Ben Jonathan, you know. Really nasty.”

 

Hadrian scowled. “I should have realized sooner that his obsession with every thing Jonathan was unhealthy,” he muttered, huffing angrily. His expression brightened a bit as he said, “It’s all right now, though. I think you are better than him in any case. What’s that phrase Kate used while talking with this strange old man from the factory? Ah, yeah. I’m looking forward to our future association.”

 

Milly smiled at him, amused, “I’m glad I chose you to be friends with.”


	3. Freedom Can Be Taxing, Too

**Chapter 3.** Freedom Can Be Taxing, Too.

 

 

A loud crash resounded in the room and Hadrian winced; yet, he didn’t look away from his book. The plants and trees described in it were just too interesting to snap his attention to such insignificant matters. The constant bangs and small explosions had become a norm ever since Milly had been given a Chemistry kit as a reward for her many scholastic achievements.

 

Hadrian would have had no problems with it if the girl hadn’t decided that the best place to exercise her knowledge in this subject was his own room.

 

When another boom was heard and fragments of some unfortunate vial scattered across the room, Hadrian couldn’t hold it in.

 

“I _really_ ask you to be a bit quieter. If the caretakers hear the noise and come here, they will blame _me_ for it. Just like the last time it happened,” he said, raising his head to look at her sharply.

 

Milly, who was sitting on the floor besides his bed, cringed visibly at the remembrance, but then glowered at him with all the force of her mighty glare. Hadrian reflected that her pride would be the end of her one day, as would be her inability to be reminded of her own mistakes and shortcomings.

 

“It happened just once,” she snarled viciously, her hands working quickly to gather the scattered splinters. “And you were no less to blame that time. _You_ were curious about what would happen if I mix-“

 

“Yeah, yeah. I have heard this a thousand times already.”

 

Hadrian frowned and looked up from his book reluctantly, a look of mild annoyance in his bright green eyes.

 

“Still, it doesn’t mean that your unblemished reputation will be spoilt if you listened to me just once and stopped being such an egoist. What if you set the whole building on fire? Or, worse, set _my room_ on fire with your chemicals? Or-“

 

“Gods, Hadrian, don’t be so fussy!” Milly exclaimed, rolling her eyes. “You know I have to know more about Chemistry to make our dream-“

 

“ _Your_ dream, you mean.”

 

“- come true. We will finally be able to leave this awful place and become rich. If everything goes according to the plan, of course. I remember you asking me how you could help. You know what? You will help me _greatly_ by keeping your mouth shut.”

 

Hadrian chose to ignore her last sentence, playing with the hem of his shirt anxiously instead; his forehead was creased in thought. “I don’t think we should really go through with our plans. I mean, _really_ , inventing a cool drug and becoming drug dealers? Don’t you think it’s a bit too much? It may get us arrested. Or killed in some gang skirmishe. I wouldn’t like either for me.”

 

Milly looked at him as if he were something filthy, something beneath her notice and as if she wondered if he was even worth talking to.

 

“Are you afraid?” she asked challengingly, daring him to speak anything against her.

 

Hadrian shook his head and sighed. They would return to this conversation at least once more, he was sure of it. But this time hadn’t come yet and he hoped beyond hope that it would never come at all.

 

Their relationship had progressed greatly throughout this last year, and Hadrian prided himself in knowing that he was the only person Milly deigned to talk to and share her secrets with. The girl had been pleased to find out he was more mature and cynical than the other children here at the orphanage, and had come to have a soft spot for him.

 

Many people wanted to use Milly because of her good marks and intelligence. It was rumoured that she was going to try to enter Oxford when the time to choose a university came, and a lot of people actually believed she could do it.

 

Her ugliness had pushed her to excel in her studies, something no other child at St. Paul’s Orphanage had ever attempted to do. Most of them were all right with living their lives in preparation to become either caretakers themselves or factory workers. Hadrian could rarely see a hint of ambition in any of them, only useless dreams of riches and luxury, which they didn’t lift a finger to work for.

 

He, himself, was different. He was wiser and smarter than most children his age, which enabled him to hold Milly’s attention for so long. They got along fairly well despite him being a couple of years younger than the girl.

 

Of course, not everything was stellar, and Milly’s attitude clearly left a lot of room for improvement, but…

 

Hadrian looked at the book he was holding in his hands. The girl used most of the money earned from scholar contests and competitions to buy books, notebooks, albums and other means of expanding their outlook. Some of them were especially bought for Hadrian, and Milly had spent a lot of hard-earned money on them.

 

Moreover, she had told him about this one library with a kind librarian who liked children, and Hadrian often sneaked out of the orphanage to borrow one book or another. Sometimes, the librarian, a lonely woman in her fifties, served him sweet tea and home-baked cookies.

 

Milly, of course, approved of such activities. ‘I don’t want to be friends with a dumbass,’ she would often say.

 

Hadrian believed her. The lack of patience she showed while dealing with less intelligent children served to illustrate that point.

 

XXX

 

Cleaning duty. How dreadful.

 

Hadrian sighed for what seemed like a hundredth time that afternoon. His hands tinged unpleasantly and the feel didn’t go away no matter how much he scratched. The water was dripping down from the dirty rag he was gripping as he rested for a bit.

 

He didn’t like doing this sort of housework. Actually, he pretty much hated it. He was all right with ironing clothes, dusting small objects around the orphanage, cooking various kinds of soups and porridges… He even didn’t mind doing the dishes – despite the wetness the duty passed by quickly and after just half an hour he could return to doing whatever he wanted.

 

The main reason for Hadrian’s abhorrence lay in days like this one.

 

“Aww, Paradis, what’s that? On cleaning duty, are we? What a lovely surprise!” The sneering face of one Ben Jonathan was anything _but_ lovely for Hadrian.

 

Of course, Jonathan’s little clique gathered behind him. They all stood with sneering faces and arrogant glints in their eyes. The proudest of them stood Jonathan himself and Jimmy Bart at his right hand. The latter had wormed his way into the heart of the orphanage’s small bully-group, and was now looking down on anyone not included in his idol’s good graces.

 

Jonathan looked highly upon and encouraged such fanaticism, taking it as true admiration from the younger boy. Hadrian, however, wasn’t fooled. He knew that Bart would strive at the chance to shine and be the leader of their gang himself. Hadrian wondered how he couldn’t have seen all this foulness before.

 

Being friends even with Jonathan seemed like a better idea than with Bart right now.

 

Ben was handsome, he supposed. No wonder that so many were smitten with him. With his fair hair and muscular body, even some of his victims were reluctant to blame the boy, opting to hold responsible everyone but him instead. Hadrian, however, had never been fooled with his charm or appearance. From an early age he had understood that the most beautiful of appearances could hide the ugliest of souls.

 

“It seems like Spice didn’t manage to threaten the caretakers into freeing him from it this time.” And here comes the voice of the little traitor. “Useless without her, are we?”

 

 “Your insults are as miserably pathetic as your intelligence, Jonathan,” Hadrian said calmly in reply, hiding the slight hurt he sometimes still felt at his ‘friend’ turning on him, and ignored the sneers and jeers of the small crowd behind the larger boy.

 

“Looks like it, guys. You missed a spot here, Paradis!” One of the guys – Hadrian neither remembered nor cared about his name – stomped on the floor with dirty shoes. The emerald-eyed boy gritted his teeth, seeing red, but knew he should be used to it by now.

 

 “Don’t you ever grow tired of it?” he asked.

 

“We?” Bart laughed. “Never. It’s always so pleasant to see you being thrown off the high horse.”

 

“Yeah. Always hiding behind that ugly hag like a spineless little worm. Don’t you have some manly pride?”

 

“Look who is talking. Since when did you become so daring, Jonathan? I still remember the times when you ran away screaming whenever I so much as glanced at you.”

 

 At Hadrian’s words the blond’s face went red with embarrassment. “I- That- It doesn’t matter! Not anymore.”

 

“Yeah.” One of the bullies nodded cheerfully. “You can’t do that freakish thing you did when we were children.”

 

“You mean my supposed ‘curse’?” It always amused Hadrian how they had twisted the strange happenings around him into that idea. They were odd, but surely not connected with something like magic in any way. Right? “Careful, or you’ll turn into a frog if you don’t back away right now.”

 

“You- You can’t!” Jonathan paled drastically. “After you murdered Father-“

 

“Excuse me! What’s _my_ fault in his death?”

 

“-After you brutally killed him, you curse vanished! You don’t affect us now! I can hit you and get away with it. And Kate won’t say anything.”

 

“That’s right,” someone from the group agreed. “She dislikes you as much as we do. I even heard her speaking about you one evening, saying how unnatural you are.”

 

Some of them were cracking their knuckles and it was obvious that the boys were getting tired of just talking. They wanted to take some action as well.

 

Thoughts inside of Hadrian’s head were spiraling and he was frantically trying to find a way out without fighting. He had never been a fighter, not really. His small stature prevented him from being in any way good at trading punches and blows with other guys. Their numbers and quite strong frames didn’t make him believe in his powers either.

 

All his depressive predictions came to a halt when he caught a movement in the corner of his eye. He wanted to beam at that. Here comes his savior in shining armour!

 

He didn’t let his joy and smugness show, however, when he looked directly in Jonathan’s eye and said, “Well then, hit me. Try to.”

 

The older boy looked put out and slightly suspicious for a moment, before his confused expression gave place to a blooming arrogant smirk.

 

“Giving up, are you? Not surprising, considering how weak you are. A real girl. It’s a shame you’re a boy. You’d have been good for a brothel with your face.”

 

“Is that all? You eloquence expired?” It was a funny word Hadrian had seen in a book. Why not use it? “I’d think you to be more daring, what’s with the way you talk of yourself as of some almighty God. It seems I was wrong.”

 

Jonathan flushed an angry red and raised his tightly clenched fist to strike the blank-faced boy in front of him. He wanted to erase this infuriating little person in front of him, to pound his face with his fists until it bled, to stomp on his fallen body and hammer it down, down, down, to the ground itself… That’s how deep his hatred, blended with fear, was.

 

_Thump._

 

Jonathan’s smirk dimmed when he realized that the flesh his fist had hit wasn’t the soft planes of Hadrian’s face but hard outstretched palm of a certain much bigger person.

 

A person who seemed downright furious with him right now, directing all the overwhelming anger towards him.

 

“Jo-na-than.” The syllables were like sharp stabs of the knife Milly was rumoured to carry around, painfully resounding in his ears. “What did I say about bullying my _brother_?”

 

Oh, right. The gang. The rumours about Milly being the leader of one weren’t a secret to any child residing in this particular orphanage. It made people wary around her; being notoriously unpredictable even before, her character had only worsened after some frequent communication with local delinquents.

 

Only Hadrian was able to somehow pacify and ground her, what’s with him being very smart and silent most of the time. She had made him her right-hand man - even though he hadn’t even seen the members of the gang - ensuring everyone knew it and Hadrian would be treated like royalty.

 

Well, as much of royalty as possible in a run-down orphanage in a forgotten corner of London’s outskirts.

 

And she became immensely angry when someone had the gall to go against her ‘orders’, as Jonathan was doing right now.

 

“Umm… We were just talking, right, guys? Paradis?” The boy looked pleadingly at the stoic Hadrian and then turned to his little clique, all of them nodding vigorously. They knew they wouldn’t be spared either if the large girl decided to punish them.

 

There were _legends_ about that one time she completely crushed one guy’s wrist bone when he –in his drunken state, of course- told her how fat she was.

 

The poor bastard had been fleeing from her ever since.

 

“Please, Jonathan, at least don’t _act_ as pathetic as you probably feel all the time,” Hadrian snapped and a dark scowl marred his flawless face.

 

 _‘Does he really, actually think that I’m going to back them up and lie to Milly?’_ he thought, staring disbelievingly at the group from behind his protector _‘Idiot.’_

 

“Your little hangers-on should know better, too,” he continued. “I think we should teach you a lesson in attitude. I really hope you won’t forget it as fast as you forgot the last one.”

 

 Milly’s predatory smile became even wider at those words. She wouldn’t have done it if Hadrian had said her to stop. While she didn’t obey him, she listened to his wishes, which were admittedly rather mild compared to her own most of the time.

 

A lot of times she offered her so-called brother to call some of her subordinates to hurt this group, to make them pay for everything they had done to him, especially this Bart boy, who had dared to throw Hadrian away. Not that she minded, of course – they wouldn’t have been able to develop this kind of relationship if it hadn’t happened - but the fact itself!

 

Oh, she couldn’t describe how much she wanted to kill them, not making her wishes a secret at all. And she would have done it, too, if not for-

 

“Stop it, Milly. You are hurting him.”

 

Hadrian’s quiet voice cut through the clouds of reverie in her mind and she blinked, realizing only now that her hand was gripping Jonathan’s arm, making him wail and howl with pain, hot tears streaming down his cheeks. She felt her most precious person’s arms brace her and his warm breath caress her neck – this was the farthest he could reach standing on his tiptoes.

 

“We should probably go,” he whispered anxiously. “Tell this bunch to clean up the mess they have made, and let’s get going. This will be their punishment. I know how Ji- Bart in particular is allergic to cleaning solutions.”

 

“But-“

 

“Let’s go,” he repeated, putting more force behind it this time, pushing her to start walking with him and leaving the relieved boys behind. Milly nodded absently, seemingly calming down.

 

Ordering the group to finish the cleaning for Hadrian, she caught up with him and touched his shoulder lightly, making him turn around. As a reply to the silent question, his lips curled into the tiniest of smiles and he shook his head fondly.

 

“You are my best friend, Milly.” Was all he said and no further words had to be exchanged between them.

 

Milly grinned widely.

 

Even if Hadrian didn’t approve of some of her traits of her character, he never condemned her for them either. And for that fact alone she was ready to remain by his side.

 

XXX

 

Time passed by quickly and Hadrian didn’t seem to notice as summer came around. He was going to be ten in less than a month and wondered what Milly would choose to buy him. The girl had always been surprisingly original and managed to surprise him with her choice of presents.

 

Admittedly, the orphanage gave children presents, too, but mostly it was something like a new coat or a pair of trousers – something which would be useful and needed to be bought anyway, just maybe at a different time.

 

Hadrian had never counted on these presents, though – he was Mrs. Rickety’s least favourite ward, hence the reason she didn’t bother much with buying him something truly comfortable or finely made to wear.

 

This time, however, other than his birthday, the small boy had another thing to look forward to.

 

A trip.

 

The children at St. Paul’s orphanage had never been taken somewhere before. Of course, sometimes they went on excursions to one museum in London or another, but… It just wasn’t the same as travelling to some other part of the country.

 

All the hustle and bustle and the generally loud noises of people preparing for the trip were getting on Hadrian’s nerves, but could he really fault those children? He was just as excited as them to see a change of scene, a place said to be uncommonly beautiful, with green meadows and a forest.

 

_‘And a lake. Or was it a river? Ah, but who cares. Water is water. Wonder if Milly will teach me how to swim?’_

At the same time, he was quite curious regarding the reason as to why the government decided to set up a fund for their particular orphanage while there were plenty of others in the district. It was due to some local programme that they were given this opportunity.

 

Apparently, some filthy rich and, most probably, utterly bored man decided to donate half of his vast fortune to charity.

 

‘To give poor children a chance to experience what a normal holiday means,’ as he had said, garnering approving and admiring looks and whispers from the locals, especially the female caretakers, who wouldn’t pass up the chance to sunbathe and have a good time for free.

 

The orphans were to stay at his grand mansion, situated near a thick forest and a small village with a funny name. Would-on-the-Mood. Or was it Mold-on the-Wood? Something strange like that, anyway.

 

Who cared about how a place was named as long as they got to swim?

 

 _‘I really need to improve my memory though,’_ Hadrian thought while packing his clothes. _‘Maybe this time it doesn’t matter, but what if someday I will forget something important? Something relevant? God, I hope that at least Milly would be there to remind me.’_

 

Shaking his head, Hadrian tried to throw all those thoughts out of his mind and opted to focus on packing instead. Thankfully, Milly had bought him a new bag, into which he could squeeze all his belongings – also presented to him by her, obviously.

 

“I have a long way to go,” he muttered miserably, looking at his scattered around the room possessions. The worst thing was, Milly wouldn’t even help him this time. The girl had said something vague about testing new throwing knives and traitors to the gang, but the boy didn’t care enough to ask for details.

 

She had always been involved in odd things.

 

The boy sighed and decided to finally get up from the bed he had been sitting on and get moving. The pile wouldn’t wait. Or, at least, the caretakers wouldn’t.

 

What a way to spend his evening.

 

XXX

 

 “I suck at this.” Hadrian hunched his shoulders in defeat. “I’ll never manage to do it.”

 

“You are not even trying.”

 

“I do! I just don’t have the talent, it seems.”

 

“Who the hell needs a talent for _swimming_? If you keep this up, I swear I will think of you the same way I think about those dunderheads who overflow this wretched place.”

 

“Heavens, no!” Hadrian’s horrified expression made Milly bark in laughter. “I think I would commit a suicide if I were ever like Jonathan. Or worse. Bart.”

 

“Well, then, do something about it. Your whining starts to get annoying.”

 

Hadrian sighed and looked gloomily at the brilliant blue lake spread in front of him. They were both standing in the water, close to the coastline. The water reached the boy’s hips, and he was afraid to go further. He had seen a couple of horror movies about the drowned and it was not a pretty sight.

 

Almost all places with water had a corpse floating peacefully in them, too. What if there was one swimming in the lake right now? At least, according to the detective stories Milly had made him read once and now regretted her choice.

 

True, his strange powers hadn’t appeared for a long time, but what if they chose to reappear right at that moment? And knowing how they affected all things dead, imagining bluishly gray withered skin and bulging eyes somewhere near him…

 

 _‘I think I’ll never do it,’_ he thought glumly, feeling his previously good mood dropping to the point of non-existence.

 

XXX

 

“Are you sure he won’t wake up?”

 

“If you finally shut up, Bart, I _know_ he won’t.”

 

“We could get into trouble if we’re caught. Kate will-”

 

“She will do nothing. And I’ll make big puppy eyes and she won’t tell even Mrs. Rickety about it.”

 

“If you say so…”

 

“Coward.”

 

When the two boys neared the bed Hadrian was lying on, they immediately stopped talking in fear of being discovered. The night was dark and it was raining outside, the sound of the droplets of rain falling against the windowsill doing nothing but increasing their anxiety.

 

For a few moments they stared at the tiny black-haired boy and watched his chest heave. It was Jimmy who decided to break the silence.

 

“Are we really… You know, going to do it?”

 

“What? Are you scared of what itty bitty Paradis will do to you?  All those rumours about him being cursed… They’re false, you know. I bet he was the one to make them up in the first place. To look cool, you know.”

 

“I wouldn’t bet on it. I- When we were still associating… He could really make weird things happen sometimes. Like when-”

 

Jonathan sneered and was about to respond snidely when Hadrian shifted in his sleep, mumbling something under his breath. The boys standing at his bedside abruptly stopped short, ceasing their conversation.

 

“We have to be quick or he’ll wake up. Now, pull it out!”

 

Hesitantly, Bart lifted the large sack he had been holding and moved it closer to Hadrian’s bed. Putting on a pair of dirty gloves, he plunged his hand into it, grimacing all the while. After fumbling for a few minutes under the irritated stare of his accomplice he grinned and pulled out the object he had been holding.

 

With a swift movement Bart threw it on Hadrian’s pillow, immediately bouncing away and wiping his hand off his ragged pants in a disgusted fashion.

 

“Gross!”

 

The noise woke Hadrian up, who, at first, blinked sleepily, trying to readjust his eyesight to the dark shadows filling the room. His awareness returned rapidly, however, when he saw two yet unknown figures looming over him in the darkness. He grabbed his blanket and pressed it closer to his chest, wild locks flapping with the motion.

 

“What are you two doing here?” he snarled, mind racing with thoughts about what they could have done to him in his defenceless and vulnerable state.

 

_‘Will Milly hear me from here if I scream? Her room is quite far…’_

“Look at your pillow, Paradis,” Jonathan said in response with a smug smirk on his face. He had wanted to do that subtly, as a wake-up surprise for Hadrian, but if that incompetent little wanker Bart had been busted…

 

Hadrian did exactly that and couldn’t keep himself from shrieking loudly.

 

The pillow was fluffy and the pillowcase itself almost blindingly white. Nothing out of ordinary. Except for the blue and black coils of a snake lying on it. Hadrian sprung on his feet, wishing desperately to get away from there, and scooted to a fancy wardrobe, where a knife Milly had given him was.

 

On hearing barks and howls of laughter from his bullies, though, he stopped short. The snake hadn’t moved yet.

 

_‘Is it… Trying to gather some forces before springing at me? Or is it just waiting? Wait… It’s not moving at all!’_

Taking a closer look at the unmoving slimy form, he came to a realization that the snake was apparently dead. Which also explained how Jonathan and Bart could take it here without running away screaming like two overgrown pansies.

 

Just then, a feeling of utter unfairness and deep offense devoured every cell in his body, making his emerald eyes grow even brighter with anger. He had been putting up with this for so long. Why couldn’t they leave him alone? Why go so far as to put a dead snake into his bed? It could have been alive and he could have been killed!

 

“What did I ever do to you?” he murmured, voice low and throaty. “I haven’t done anything to deserve such hatred. So why?”

 

“Your existence in itself is offensive.” Jonathan scowled and Hadrian could feel jealousy coming off from him in waves. “If you weren’t this way… If only you weren’t so odd, I know that everyone would have loved spending time with you. Pretty, smart, quiet…”

 

“And teachers at school like you, too,” Bart cut in, looking displeased. “If we didn’t put you in your rightful place, you would have been a show off and too good. We have to show you what you’re, your position. Lower than dirt.”

 

Hadrian couldn’t believe what he was hearing. All right, he could understand it if someone hated him because of the rumours surrounding his person, some of which, he had to admit, were as grimy as they were far from truth. But tormenting him when Milly wasn’t around, making his life hellish and calling up the others, both children and the caretakers, to detest him as well? All of that for something as petty as jealousy?

 

It made him feel angrier than anything could.

 

“I hate you,” Hadrian muttered hoarsely, tilting his head downwards so that the fringe hid his slightly deranged eyes. He could feel something in the air around him shift and sing, and his chest constricted with a feeling he couldn’t quite describe – as if something long dormant decided to make an appearance again, to resurface through a kind of a thick barrier.

 

The boys standing in front of him didn’t seem to notice this alteration at all, continuing where they had left, reciting all the times they had felt him to be too good or too favoured by someone, anyone. Even if a horde of raging elephants came through the door, they wouldn’t have moved a muscle – so lost they were in their combined speech, which made Hadrian fleetingly wonder if they had practiced it together.

 

“…and Milly likes you when she doesn’t like me…”

 

“…you have the protection of her gang… how lucky… you don’t deserve it…”

 

The snippets of their rant in Hadrian’s ears were dimmed by his concentration on this weird thing happening around him. He tried hard to somehow destroy that blasted barrier inside of him – his mind or body or maybe something else entirely, he didn’t know – which was an uncomfortable obstacle in his system, like when you can’t breathe with your nostrils and mouth closed.

 

It felt suffocating and overwhelming, and he pushed and pushed and pushed, putting all his mind forces and defenses to utterly obliterate the wall, and he was on the verge of succeeding-

 

“… you’re nothing more than a murderer, to kill Father Andrew. Jimmy told me all about it. He has never been your friend, you know. Even when you thought he was, he secretly reported all the strange happenings around you to me.”

 

This knowledge of betrayal became the last straw needed for the barrier to break. Hadrian’s whole world lit up with a thousand of colours, most of them various shades of black. He had never been able to even imagine how much undertones could one colour hold, and he couldn’t explain how black could be bright, but it was, and it made sense to him, and-

 

“What’s this?” Jonathan looked up when the chandelier over his head blew up and the light bulbs broke into a cascade of sharp fragments. He covered his head with his hands and flew to the door, tugging at the doorknob, only to find the exit locked. “What’s going on? Hadrian?”

 

Jonathan moved his fearful gaze to his fellow orphan, and, despite the severity of the moment, his breath got caught in his throat. With an odd dreamy half-smile and long disorderly hair around him like a halo, Hadrian looked like a fallen angel, a Lucifer in his youth, only without wings.

 

The spell dissipated quickly when Jonathan felt repulsive scent flowing into his nose. He shifted his gaze to his side kick and his eyes immediately caught a murky spot on the boy’s trousers. He scrunched his nose in disgust, but couldn’t blame him. Had Jonathan himself had less dignity, he would let go of his bladder, too.

 

Meanwhile, Bart kneeled on the floor, his head touching the wooden surface, and muttered something barely audible. Listening in, Jonathan could tell that it was a prayer of some kind, probably to ward off demons. Glancing at the midnight-haired boy, he thought in resignation that it would be kind of useless in this situation.

 

Hadrian stared at the scene unfolding in front of his eyes with impassive face, not having any particular desire to return from the world of this sheer happiness and bright colours and freedom to the world of orphanage and hardships. Yet he squashed the urge to stay in his trance forever, and opted to focus on the two boys in front of him.

 

Two boys who had been trying their hardest to hurt him.

 

“I’m not going to let you out,” Hadrian proclaimed, his resolve hardening. He didn’t like actively hurting others but they had been begging him for it. “I don’t know what I’m going to do yet… But I think you deserve something bad to happen to you.”

 

Jonathan paled but stood his ground, not going down on his knees pitifully like his ‘friend’. For that fact alone Hadrian could feel a tinge of respect for the older bully. Not that it would save him, of course.

 

The boy looked around the room to find some inspiration. A knife? No, that’d be too… ordinary. Usual. He could call Milly for that – she had always offered. He didn’t know when his powers would vanish again, after all, and wanted to milk this situation for all it was worth.

 

His gaze fell on the creature resting serenely on his pillowcase, and an idea bloomed in his head. What if he could..?

 

Hadrian walked up to the bed, careful not to step on the shards – he didn’t want to get some kind of infection and end up doing something stupid like dying. He didn’t have a reason or a specific goal to his life, but dying sounded like something completely unappealing to him.

 

He pulled a face at touching a snake but did it anyway, albeit reluctantly. His body shivered at the feel of cold scales and he hesitated before wrapping his hand completely around the animal, just below its head. He tried to summon up the feeling he had gotten once, when that person came to the orphanage and he had raised a swarm of insects.

 

Hadrian tried to copy the feeling, and the strange dark brightness in his chest increased and became almost unbearably blinding as he summoned up this misty substance. Then he began to transfer it into the slim body before him, and felt it diminish more and more until nothing but a flickering twinkle of it was left, and that was the moment he lifted his hands from the snake, feeling strangely exhausted, to the point where he had to sit down to not be crushed or knocked down by the oncoming headache.

 

He didn’t know what he had done, but he knew it was a right thing – his instincts were clearly telling him so. And if there was one thing Milly had driven to his head, it was to trust instincts more than people – even if that person was himself.

 

The snake twitched, then opened its eyes, then began to uncoil slowly, taking in its surroundings. All the while horrified gazes followed its calm and sleepy movements.

 

To Hadrian, the idea of resurrecting (?) a snake didn’t seem so brilliant anymore when he realized he was sitting too closely to it and was too drained to get up, not to mention jerk away. With a hopeless expression he observed as the animal lifted its blue and black head to meet his eyes.

 

Just when he was about to forego all his pride and those silly ideas of revenge and just _flee_ from there, it spoke.

 

 _“Blood. I can smell it. So much of it,”_ the strange talking snake sniffed. _“You taste so good. And smell, too. Can I eat you? Please?”_

 

Hadrian sat stiffly, still speechless at the fact that a snake could talk in English. His mind was locked on that fact and refused to let it go, thus making the boy unable to react at all.

 

Snake, as it seemed, took his silence as a yes and was getting ready to lash out at him when, suddenly, it stopped its fangs inches away from his delicate skin. As if puzzled, it tilted its head in an almost human gesture.

 

_“Wait. You are like those things… The people who took me away from home smelled this way, too. If I spare you, will you return me to mother?”_

 

 _“Um…”_ Hadrian began tentatively; hope now shining in his emerald orbs. _“I’m sorry to disappoint you… But I actually have no idea what you’re talking about. I don’t want you to eat me, though. Maybe, you could explain in more detail where I should take you and all…”_

 

He stopped short when the reptile reared up its head in what seemed like a surprise. Hadrian couldn’t honestly comprehend why. Did he say something wrong?

 

 _“You speak!”_ it exclaimed.

 

 _“Of course,”_ Hadrian replied, feeling offended. His opinion of the snake’s intellect was dropping with every passing minute.

 

 _“Why didn’t you speak up sooner? And to think that I could kill a speaker! Other snakes would have never forgiven me!”_ It shook its head frantically, as if envisioning what exactly they would have done in punishment.

 

 _“Well, sorry for being surprised at seeing a talking snake!”_ Hadrian snapped, affronted at the reptile’s behavior. _“Why are you able to talk in English anyway?”_

 

The snake stared at him as if he was being an idiot. _“It’s not me, human-child. Didn’t you notice?_ You _are the one speaking my language. I thought you tingling people would certainly know.”_

 

Hadrian frowned, realizing that, indeed, his speech now included prolonged ‘s’s and sounded more like hissing than natural human tongue. His mind, however, was locked on the other word.

 

“ _Tingling people?”_ he mouthed.

 

The snake whipped its tail dismissively. _“Your strange powers make my scales tingle. It’s quite pleasant, I should say. That’s why I never bite people like you. Unless they annoy me, of course.”_

 

Hadrian was about to say something when a loud wail prevented words from passing his lips. He felt like hitting his head. He had completely forgotten about Bart and Jonathan!

 

His eyes peering out of his fringe, he glanced at the violently trembling boys, thinking about what he could do now. The snake, while not overly intelligent, seemed quite nice and agreeable. Surely, he could ask it to scare those two? Not to kill them – the matron would probably freak out and blame him for it – but… frighten them a bit.

 

_“Umm… Did you know you were dead? And, well, it was me who returned you back to life. Sort of. Doesn’t that merit a reward of some kind? I mean- Of course, you can go and do whatever you like, but will you do just a small favour?”_

If snakes could grimace, this one would. _“I don’t want to be dead once more. It was dark and there was nothing to eat. Can you imagine that? No crunchy bones, no tender meat, no skin… If you, human-child, were the one to pull me out of it… What do you want me to do?”_

_“Can you… I don’t know, scare them? Are you poisonous?”_

 

 _“Depends. My venom could kill a human within seconds. Aren’t I a great snake?”_ The reptile looked smug at that. Hadrian just coughed awkwardly, unsure as to how to reply to that. _“But if you want, I could inject only a smallest amount of venom and it would just make him unconscious.”_

 

Bart, who was still kneeling on the floor, squeaked and his mutterings grew louder, as if he heard what they were saying. He raised his eyes, the reptile immediately in its field of vision, and screamed in horror as he saw it nearing him.

 

 _“Wait!”_ Hadrian’s voice cut through the tense silence of the room. “ _He’s too pathetic to bite, spare your venom.  I don’t think he will ever bother me anymore. Can you bite the other one?”_ he addressed to the yet unnamed snake.

 

_‘While Jonathan is slightly better than that lump on the floor, it doesn’t mean that I will forgive all he has done to me in a few minutes.’_

 

Without bothering to reply, the reptile lunged at the fair-headed boy, biting him in the arm. It remembered to carefully avoid brushing vital vein in his wrist. The bite itself didn’t last long – less than a second, a swift movement, blurring in Hadrian’s eyesight.

 

Jonathan gasped in fear and pain and clutched his wounded arm, on which two tiny punctures had appeared. His face scrunched up in pain, but, again, it didn’t last long – a moment later his body relaxed and the carpet underneath his feet welcomed him in its fluffy embrace.

 

Bart was unconscious by that moment, and Hadrian ran up to the fallen body of the orphanage’s local favourite. He checked the pulse and felt relieved when he realized that Jonathan’s heart was still beating. The raven-haired boy looked up, quirking his lips in a tiny smile, and was about to express his undying gratitude to the snake, when the door behind him creaked open.

 

“What’s going on here?” Mrs. Rickety, standing in her pink nightgown, demanded. “We’ve heard the screams- Oh, Gods!”

 

The caretakers, headed by a worried Kate, arrived at the sound of her shout and gathered around the two lying bodies. Every one of them added their horrified moans and shrieks and pained whimpers to the cacophony of sounds reigning in the room.

 

The noise made Hadrian’s ears hurt and he was glad he had had the time to quickly retreat to the farthest corner of the room. He had taken the reptile with him, knowing that it would be best if they didn’t see her – his punishment could get much worse if they were to find out he had a hand in their favourites’ current state of unconsciousness.

 

Unfortunately, the reptile wasn’t as farsighted.

 

Curious, it had slithered away from the hiding place behind him. And Kate chose exactly that moment to look in Hadrian’s direction.

 

The ear-splitting screech that followed could make his eardrums explode from the pressure – that’s how high and how ringing it was. “A snake! Look, here, at the villa!”

 

“Someone, do something!”

 

“Why do you people just stand there? Kill it!”

 

“Will stepping on it work?”

 

“You dumbass, it will kill you before you get near it! How do you think stepping will work?”

 

“Oh, this wretched man,” Mrs. Rickety was mumbling to herself while watching the snake tearfully. “I knew it was wrong of me to trust charity from a complete stranger. The nerve of him! Make poor children be bitten by a poisonous snake! Where will I get rid of corpses?”

 

The fact that the boys seemed perfectly fine if out cold, waiting for someone to tend to them, seemed to escape her notice.

 

In the commotion Kate’s gaze fell on Hadrian and he knew it wouldn’t end well for him.

 

“You!” she snarled, pointing an accusing finger at the discomfited boy. “I know it’s somehow your fault! It always is!”

 

Hadrian opened his mouth to retort, to say how she was wrong and lie that he had slept until waking up and finding the unconscious bodies when the culprit for all the commotion slithered forward to where he was standing now.

 

That… damned… _creature_.

 

His petite form was still and unmoving, and he didn’t stir even when he felt its cool scales gliding by his ankles, making him shiver despite the warm air. The condemning glares directed at him by all the occupants of the room didn’t make him feel better at all.

 

“I… This…” He tried in vain to speak up, to think of anything, any lie which could help him get out of the situation, but he soon realized, with dread devouring him, that his usual eloquence had evaporated and all words had left him.

 

In the end, he just made an uncertain wave with his hand, at a loss of what to say. The motion seemed to break the ringing silence in the room and the noise returned.

 

Except that this time they were talking about him and his punishment.

 

Young and old caretakers, along with the orphanage’s old janitor and Mrs. Rickety, quarreled about how to discipline him. Even those who had been pretty much indifferent to him before, now tried to outcry each other about the choice of punishment, leaving Hadrian standing by his lonesome by the heavily-curtained window.

 

He didn’t complain, though. He stood there alternating between glaring daggers at the smug reptile at his feet and observing the proceedings.

 

Eventually, Mrs. Rickety offered the others to retreat to her office and discuss the matters over a glass of wine. Her offer was met with general approval and, eventually, they left, leaving Hadrian and the snake with a promise of pain if he moved anywhere.

 

How foolish. It’s not like the boy had anywhere to go even if he wanted to.

 

XXX

 

 _“What is your name, anyway?”_ Hadrian asked when he grew bored with the continuous silence. He wasn’t really interested in the snake’s reply – he just needed something to occupy himself with while waiting for his verdict to be declared.

 

He had tried to go to Milly but found out that the caretakers had locked the door, thus preventing his escape. He had no doubt that the old hag Kate was the one to do it – the woman had always harboured some kind of peculiar hatred towards him.

 

 _“Kamaria.”_ The familiar hissing voice, which by now Hadrian was sure belonged to a female, shook him out of his thoughts. _“You?”_

 

 _“You can call me Hadrian.”_ After a prolonged silence Hadrian continued, seemingly disinterested. _“Back then… You mentioned ‘tingling people’. And that they feel the same way as I. What did you mean by that?”_

_“You don’t know?”_ Kamaria asked, honestly surprised. Hadrian scowled, not liking being ignorant about something so important. _“Then again, not everyone is as educated as me – be it snake or human.”_

 

Seeing his scowl deepening, she continued hastily. _“You humans call them ‘wizards’, I think. Or something like that. Anyways, people who can cause this tingling feeling – magic.”_

 

_“But magic doesn’t exist!”_

_“Do you really think so? How did you resurrect me, then? I’m sure I was dead, but then I woke up and saw you. If this isn’t magic, then I don’t know what is.”_

 

It made Hadrian remember all the times he had done something strange. True, he had thought about magic as well at first, but after he mentioned it to Mrs. Rickety once and she preached about its non-existence, he was completely dissuaded from the idea.

 

“ _All right, then,”_ he said. _“You said there are others. Where can I find them? Is it possible at all?”_

 

If snakes could shrug, Kamaria would.

 

_“Who knows. I have never been interested in human culture. I know I can feel magic, but that’s nearly all. If you want, though, I can lead you to the places where its concentration is high.”_

_“We’ll see about that,”_ Hadrian muttered and heard the sound of the key opening the door. He looked at it, expecting the caretakers to come forth with their decision.

 

To his surprise, the door revealed his best and only friend, who looked really angry.

 

“You idiot!” she growled, loudly closing the door behind her. “Why did you kill them? I have specifically instructed you to wait until we’re out of here!”

 

“But I didn’t-“ Hadrian didn’t finish when he saw the guilty expression on Kamaria’s face.

 

 _“I think my venom was still too strong for a child so young,”_ she hissed apologetically. Hadrian wanted to murder her after those words. His expression clearly belied his inner rage, at least judging by the way the snake slithered under the bed as far away from him as possible.

 

“Oh? Then, how come I have seen Jonathan’s corpse downstairs?” Milly sneered.

 

Hadrian paled drastically. He hadn’t wanted it. He didn’t want to become… a murderer.  A killer. Of course, he could have been a cause of someone’s death but an indirect one. Now, though, when he had purposely ordered a snake to hurt a person… his conscience was nagging at the back of his mind.

 

“Why are you so silent?” Milly’s voice was shrill and, to Hadrian’s shock, the girl seemed almost hysterical, with splotches of red blush across her cheeks and tears ready to fall from her eyes. The boy was so used to seeing her strong and proud that in this moment of her weakness he stood like a fool, at a loss about what to do.

 

“I don’t know what to say,” Hadrian admitted quietly. He ducked his head to avoid looking at his friend in fear of her seeing his overwhelming confusion and uncertainty. “I- I didn’t want him to die, not really. What is Mrs. Rickety going to do?”

 

Milly turned away from him and her voice sounded hollow as she spoke. “They’re going to lock you away in a prison. Jonathan was their favourite, you’ve picked the wrong target.” Abruptly, she whirled around and fire was blazing in her eyes. “I won’t allow it! I know a way, a way to save you.”

 

With confident strides she reached Hadrian and grabbed him by his shoulders. “You have enough time to escape. I have picked the lock and stolen some money from Mrs. Rickety’s room when she was busy with the police. When you run away from here, you should go to this village – Mould-on-the-Wold. Remember that hiding place near the fountain? Wait for me there. I will get you and we’ll decide what to do later.”

 

The clock on the wall stroke eleven and Milly let go of him reluctantly.

 

“I understand,” Hadrian said quietly, rubbing the girl’s arm reassuringly. A small beautiful smile played on his face. “Thank you. Not just for this but for all that you have done to me.”

 

“Idiot.” Milly snorted while trying to wipe away the tears in the corners of her eyes as inconspicuously as possible. “It’s not a farewell. Don’t think that you’ll get rid of me so easily.”

 

Hadrian grinned. “Of course not. Till I see you again.”

 

And off he went.

 

XXX

 

Why did he get lost again?

 

Oh, yes, it was because of this annoying reptile on his shoulder which seemed like a source of all the trouble for him lately.

 

He clearly remembered Milly’s instructions about going to Mould-on-the-Wold, and had been aiming to carry them out initially. But when he - and the infuriating snake that had somehow tagged along – was passing by the forest on his way to the village, Kamaria perked up and said that she could sense very strong magical lines coming from the depths of the wood.

 

Hadrian had hesitated then and, after some prompting from his new… pet? turned around to see where those vibes were coming off from. Maybe he could find something of a community there. People, who would help and guide him, and perhaps even teach him a few tricks regarding the use of his powers.

 

Milly wouldn’t have been able to drop by the village until very late anyway, and Hadrian had planned to do a little trip and proceed with their plans.

 

Except that now it had all gone awry.

 

He had been walking in the forest for a few hours already and could see the sky become darker. He was getting hungry, too, and the rumbling of his stomach was like an annoying melody, unpleasant to listen to.

 

He watched Kamaria pounce on a defenseless rabbit and swallow him whole.

 

‘ _Lucky her,’_ he thought enviously.

 

 _“It’s here!”_ she suddenly exclaimed, diverting from the satisfying task of digesting poor fluffy animal.

 

 _“That’s what you told me half an hour ago,”_ Hadrian snapped. His feet hurt, too. And he wanted to take a shower. Badly. He knew he smelled like a horde of athletes after working out.

 

_“I know, I know, but this time I’m sure!”_

 

Hadrian sighed, not really believing her. He had come to understand that the snake would say anything only so that she could seem wise and strong and great and all that jazz. Due to Kamaria he had lost count of how many adjectives could describe the virtues of a reptile.

 

He blinked when he realized that this place looked quite different from the ones they had been in for the past hours.

 

They had arrived at the graveyard.

 

Oh, dear.


	4. The Experiment

When Hadrian had first heard about a graveyard nearby, he had envisioned grim crosses and statues of angels looming threateningly over the last refuge of men and women. He envisioned the breathtaking feeling of darkness dancing in the air, and the atmosphere of dreariness combined with fear, both humbling and exciting.

Now, looking at the small area with simple wooden crosses and ordinary grey stones instead of imposing sculptures, Hadrian felt cheated.

Kamaria stuck out her tongue into the air, as if feeling it. Her eyes flashed a bright brilliant blue when she sensed something peculiar.

 _“It’s here,”_ she hissed, slithering down her master’s body to the carpet of dry leaves. She slid forward with determination, turning her head to the sides in search of the power calling out to her. In her excitement, she didn’t notice what was happening around, ignoring Hadrian’s cautious footsteps behind her and his wary calls.

The boy didn’t yet know what they would find, or what he even expected to happen to him at the graveyard – he had never been to any funerals before, and the orphanage was situated quite far from any cemetery.

Strangely enough, something was compelling him to move forward, to the place Kamaria was heading. It was an inexplicable urge, a sudden whim.

Now, Hadrian usually wasn’t the one to indulge in adventures and caprices – the years of experiencing the aftermath of those impulses had taught him well – but he had learned to trust his instincts, however unreasonable they seemed.

He became concerned, though, when they had neared the edge of the fence, yet the snake didn’t stop. Eventually, Hadrian was led to a withered tree, under which two lone tombstones stood, apart from the other graves.

 _“Found it!”_ the snake exclaimed gleefully, her forked tongue tasting the air again. She looked at her companion, waiting for grateful speeches or at least sounds of approval. Hadrian was too busy reading the names to notice her disapproving stare when none followed.

 _“What strange names,”_ he muttered out loud, hand tapping his chin pensively. _“This girl here, Ariana Dumbledore… It seems like she died at just fourteen. Must have been dreadful for her parents to lose her. And Kendra… Her mother, maybe?”_

Kamaria tilted her head, and her scales flashed in the moonlight. _“Honestly, I don’t care. Are you going to reward me now? Carrying me in your hands seems like a good idea. I’m so awfully_ tired, _”_ she complained in a hissy whine.

 _“ I’m sure that walking a couple of feet wasn’t such a chore,”_ Hadrian snapped. He had been carrying her for a few hours, and this nosy creature had the gall to actually complain! _“Why should I reward you anyway? You have done nothing but aggravate me!”_

Kamaria hissed, offended _. “We_ slither, _not walk. And I_ have _located those magical humans you wanted to find so badly. It’s not my fault they are already dead.”_

Hadrian sighed and sat upon one of the low tombstones. He was tired, and there were no benches, and, well, it’s not like the corpses underneath could complain, right?

 _“Can’t you do the same thing you did to me?”_ Kamaria asked suddenly. _“You know, raise one of them from the dead. Probably the girl is better. I don’t want to associate myself with some old aunty. They scream too much for me to like them. Young ones, at least, sometimes find my scales fascinating. Just like they should.”_

Hadrian looked at her contemplatively but in the end only shook his head. _“I’m exhausted. Not to mention that I really don’t know how in the world I’ve managed to do it to you.”_

 _“You mean to tell me… That you experimented on me?!”_ Kamaria looked so angry with her glowering light blue eyes that for a second the boy thought she might strike him, and leaned away a bit. _“What if you damaged my lovely scales?”_

_“It’s not like you would have cared even if something had gone wrong. I mean, you were a corpse, for God’s sake!”_

_“God?”_ Kamaria looked mildly interested, her previous anger forgotten. _“Is it something you can eat?”_

 _“Umm… Not really. God is… some kind of higher power… oh, how do you explain it to a_ snake _?”_

 _“Hey! I might not have limbs like you, but I’m far from unintelligent.”_ She looked incredibly smug at that, not wavering even under Hadrian’s sceptical gaze. _“In fact, you are lucky to have got such a bright snake like me.”_

_“Are you implying that I can call you my pet now?”_

Kamaria reared up in offense, hissing in an affronted way. _“Say no such foolish things, human child. I’m too great to have masters.”_

 _“You would be dead now if not for me. This way, you certainly wouldn’t have had any masters,”_ Hadrian pointed out. _“Now that I think about it… I have been feeling this strange thread connecting me to you ever since that time. What would happen if I snap it, how do you think?”_ Hadrian tapped his chin in contemplation. _“Oh, yeah, probably no more ‘tender meat’ for you, as you put it back then.”_

It was true that ever since resurrecting the snake, no matter how useless she was, he had been feeling quite tired, and not just because of his hunger and long hours of pointless walking in the forest. Something was sucking energy from him, and Hadrian was determined to make it stop, especially if he was going to spend an unidentifiable amount of time _here_ of all places.

The boy closed his eyes and concentrated. Meditation had always been the thing which calmed him the most. No matter the circumstances. He had used it to relax long before Milly came along and introduced him to the joys of reading good books and talking to a friend.

Since he was little, he could go to a place in his mind filled with mist and where time passed slowly. If he absolutely had to call some place ‘home’, he would choose this one.

So, Hadrian wasn’t surprised to feel his heartbeat change from rapid knocks against his small chest to even, soothing beats. He imagined a sea of fog beneath him. That place inside his mind had always been quiet and eerily silent, to the point where not even his breathing could be heard, and thoughts became distant and subdued.

Now, though, there was a change.

True, the unnatural silence reigned even now, but in the expanses of dirty grey clouds Hadrian could feel something else, something foreign and taxing for his organism. He mentally floated to the place the alien feeling was coming from and stared in interest at the peculiar phenomenon of his mind.

It was a thread, no, actually, more like a thick _rope_ running from the abyss that was the depths of his mind, from far beneath the clouds. It was connecting whatever was veiled from his gaze below with the boundaries of this place. It was piercing the invisible border of his mind and proceeded outside, where the living world was waiting for him.  

Hadrian had never gone deeper than where he was now, and watched the twisting rope with something akin to disappointment in his eyes. He wasn’t ready to plunge deeper.

He couldn’t explain it, but the thought of going deeper left him breathless with fear and wariness, and made a shudder run down his spine.

Hadrian liked intrigue and mysteries, but he valued his life even more.

Remembering what he had arrived here for, he crouched on the ominous cloud just near the rope. He wanted to see what would happen if he cut the connection, which, he had no doubts, led to Kamaria. Would she die again? Or, maybe, she would do something else entirely?

A disturbing idea came to Hadrian’s mind. _‘Wait. They’ve always told us how snakes are violent and won’t hesitate to attack anyone. But Kamaria, even if pretty useless, has never struck me as an aggressive per- err, snake. Maybe this thing keeps her from attacking me? And if I remove it… Won’t it mean that she will pounce at me or something?’_

Alert now, Hadrian edged away a bit. As if being out of the orphanage not enough, now there was a chance of a deranged snake attacking him!

His life was racing downside by each passing moment, and Hadrian felt depressed and helpless like never before. He was still a child, after all, and children were too ‘dumb and immature’, according to Mrs. Rickety, to make any astounding decisions.  

He didn’t agree with her on that part about intelligence, but he could readily admit that Milly always guided him whenever he was unable to do something or whenever he needed a piece of advice.

She was cool like that.

Hadrian glared at the rope with determination shining in his green eyes and decided that, well, if Kamaria would indeed attack him… He didn’t know exactly what he would do but it would be something awesome. Something… magical.

He nodded to himself and gathered his willpower. Leaning forward, he hesitated before grabbing the rope – which, surprisingly, didn’t hurt him – and tore it apart with his two tiny hands.

The sound was deafening, and for a second Hadrian felt a disturbing numbness settling in his ears. But the sensation went away as soon as it came, and a minute later, after a moment of hard breathing and stillness, Hadrian could proudly gaze upon the remnants of the rope.

It was burning slowly, almost painstakingly so, and Hadrian felt as if he had done himself no good: he was feeling more worn out than before, as if he had been carrying boxes filled with old bricks – something equally pointless but exhaustive all the same.

He decided that he had spent enough time in his… mind? Soul? Whatever and should be coming back now. Moreover, who knew what the snake could be doing with his unconscious body right now? She didn’t have the rope chaining her anymore, after all.

Hadrian opened his eyes hastily and looked around for the snake, which would either be sulking or thinking of plans to assault him.

He found Kamaria a few feet away from him.

As it turned out, she was neither scheming nor pouting. She was simply lying on the ground, the blue and black coils twisted loosely. She didn’t seem to breathe and when Hadrian called out uncertainly, she didn’t respond.

He stopped in front of her and for a minute simply stood there, contemplating.

 _‘So, my first assumption was right. It seems like whenever I resurrect someone, it makes me tired. But if I snap this rope, they die again. Wonder if it would happen to humans, too._ Can _I do this to humans at all?’_

The thought came out of the blue, but Hadrian tilted his head as he considered it. He had never thought about the things he could do as magic, so he hadn’t tried to experiment with his powers. Now, though… Why not? The place was perfect – no annoying nosy caretakers and no scared children running away with girly shrieks whenever he so much as glared at them.

And if something goes wrong… Well, it’s not like anyone would find out or investigate.

Hadrian looked around. Luckily, the graveyard seemed like a perfect place to carry out some tests, what’s with plenty of corpses lying around, as if waiting for him. He felt like a child in a sandbox. Or a candy shop. Except that the sandbox could be cemented and the candy shop could be empty and it all depended on him.

He walked to the tombstones where Kamaria had sensed magic coming from. They didn’t seem like much – ordinary stones with engraved epitaphs. Why would this place reek of magic?

Hadrian shook his head and sat down near the grave of the younger girl, Ariana. Only now he noticed that out of the whole cemetery only hers was clean and neat, without weeds that had taken over most of the other graves.

Maybe, it was magic? Or was the graveyard not so abandoned as it seemed?

Throwing these thoughts out of his head, Hadrian touched the earth, the coolness of it soothing him and ridding him of anxiety immediately. He could do it. He was certain. Hadrian concentrated hard; trying to summon up the same angered feeling he had felt when Jonathan and Bart had sneaked into his room. The same rage and indignation were thrumming beneath his soft skin at the thought, giving him power, fuelling it.

All the leftovers of powers he had, Hadrian rammed them into the ground, willing it to go deeper, where the corpse of that girl was. Belatedly, he thought that maybe she had already rotten away too much to function and wouldn’t be able to walk even if she wanted to anyway – he had never been interested in how fast people decay to research - but it was too late to do anything now.

His breathing was uneven when Hadrian finally leaned away from the grave and the flowers on it. He was drained had some difficulty breathing. He looked around and strained his ears to hear something and screw up his eyes to see any movement.

Nothing.

It was as if he hadn’t just given all his remaining powers to this girl. Hadrian scowled. How impolite of her not to appreciate it and rise like a good little corpse.

Sighing gloomily, Hadrian rose to his feet, determined to find someplace to rest.

Or, well, tried to. His legs had given in and he fell to the ground, utterly drained from the hours of walking through the forest as well as from the experiments with that magic thing. By the time Hadrian hit the ground, he had already been fast asleep, a peaceful expression on his face.

XXX

He was woken up by a loud continuous sound. After blinking rapidly a few times to shake off the sleep, Hadrian was fully aware that, yes, the ugly screeching was coming from somewhere beneath him and definitely belonged to a female.

Hadrian rose to his feet swiftly, disregarding the buzzing in his head as he did so. The screams alternated with wild laughter, which rang like bells in Hadrian’s ears, and for a split second the boy doubted it was wise to free this person. However, he pulled himself together and rushed to dig up this girl (if this was her, of course. If not… he would be in a bit of trouble).

_‘It was me to ‘wake’ her up. I think it’s cruel to make her live for a few minutes – how long has she been alive, by the way? – only to destroy her connection to this world the next moment.’_

With determination, Hadrian used all the force his frail, almost sickly, body could hold and applied it to digging up the grave. It was hard labour, the kind he wasn’t yet used to like the older children in the orphanage were, those, who worked at the mines. For him, it was something new and unbearably taxing. At this very moment Hadrian swore to himself that he would _never_ work as a miner.

The laughter-screaming, which bordered on hysterics, sent shudders down Hadrian’s spine. Just to make it stop, he worked harder and harder, until, finally, his goal was accomplished and he was face to face with a beautifully adorned golden coffin.

Faltering, Hadrian raised his shaking dirty fingers to gently touch the lid and open the coffin. The girl who was inside got his breath caught in his throat.

She was beautiful, remarkably so, but this wasn’t something particularly attention-grabbing. Hadrian was more shocked by her state of decay. Or, more correctly, complete lack of it.

“Aren’t you supposed to be rotting? A skeeton?” Hadrian blurted out with wide emerald eyes.

“Aren’t you supposed to be polite to strangers?” the girl, _Ariana_ , retorted. “Why are you this rude?”

They stared at each other for a long minute, appraising each other’s appearance. Then, Ariana gave out a short ringing laugh and her curly blond hair shook with the motion. She raised her blue eyes to look at him, a small smile playing on her delicate face.

“I’m alive, right? It’s not a dream, then…” Her expression was filled with wonder as she looked at Hadrian. “What is your name? Were you really the one to wake me up? You look so… small. I’ve heard from my brother that Necromancers exist, but he always told me they are scary and menacing.”

Hadrian swallowed his offense at the word ‘small’, opting to focus on the many questions running through his mind instead. “Why do you look normal? You are completely unlike what I thought a corpse would look like.”

Ariana looked surprised for a moment, but then only shrugged. “My brother cast a preserving charm, I guess. Maybe you have heard about him. He’s not as well-known as Albus,” she spat out the name, her expression darkening with hatred. Hadrian didn’t know who this Albus fellow was, but he pitied him. “But he is really smart and powerful, only shy. And modest. I have never seen anyone more humble.”

She paused and cast her eyes down, on her intertwined deathly pale hands. “Not that I have seen many people at all. My brother’s name is Aberforth. Aberforth Dumbledore.” Her smile shone radiantly as she remembered her beloved brother.

“Umm… Sorry, never heard about the guy. You have mentioned Necromancers and that they can somehow do the same things as me. Oh, and I’m Hadrian, by the way. Don’t bother with saying your name, I have read it on the tombstone already.”

“Necromancers can raise the dead, obviously.” She looked at him as if he were stupid. “Haven’t your parents ever told you fairy tales?”

Hadrian ducked his head and pressed his lips into a tight line. “I don’t have them. Parents, I mean.”

“Oh. Sorry. What’s your surname, by the way? You don’t look like a Dumbledore at all, but maybe we are distant relatives. I guess, a lot of years have passed since my death and we could be. All purebloods are interrelated, after all.”

“Paradis,” Hadrian said _. ‘Purebloods? Interrelated? Ewww. Maybe, it’s like in those stories of incest Kate has told us about. I really hope I’m not from such a family. Their children always have some kind of health problems.’_

Ariana stilled and her nice smile froze on her face. “I don’t recognize this name. Your parents must be muggles, then. At least one of them.” Her voice sounded hollow and Hadrian could feel anger mounting in her stance. His posture was guarded as he watched her with sudden wariness. Abruptly, she didn’t seem so harmless and innocent anymore.

“Muggles?” he asked, tilting his head. He didn’t recognize the term.

“People without magic.” She said it in such a way as if being a muggle was a deep offense and something unnatural, not a normal occurrence. “They are different from us. They are prejudiced, malevolent, immoral, useless, and their intelligence is inferior to ours. They are like beasts, primitive and undignified. They-“

“I get it. You hate muggles. The only thing I can’t understand is why. They are not _that_ different,” Hadrian said puzzled, remembering Milly. She was the smartest person he knew and very proud and ambitious, not undignified in any way.

“Well, maybe they _are_ intelligent beings, but they don’t understand us.” She raised her head defiantly and, somehow, even with a wide smile on her face, she didn’t come across as friendly. “Never did, as far as history goes.” 

“You mean the Inquisition?” Hadrian asked, remembering a history book which briefly mentioned them. He frowned, thinking that if all those burned people were really witches and wizards, he could understand why someone could hold a grudge. Especially if they had grown with magic all around them.

Ariana laughed. "Oh, no, this was a Ministry tactic. You know about the Ministry, right? Oh, well, doesn’t matter. What matters is that they were useful for once. They provoked muggles to start burning everyone deemed as a witch or a wizard. Too bad that the real ones know fire-repellent spells and were thus able to escape with only a tingle while poor muggles were burnt.”

The smile didn’t leave her face once despite the gruesome topic and Hadrian was starting to be crept out. Had he resurrected some sort of a loon? Her constant short laughs were unnerving and definitely made him question her already dubious sanity. He wondered if the resurrection had had something to do with it.

“I see.” In reality he didn’t, but those were just technicalities. And what in the world could this Ministry be? “Does that mean there are certain communities where only wizards live?”

Ariana shrugged in a carefree fashion. “Yes. Plenty of them, in fact. If you are interested, I think you could help me find my brother Aberforth. I’m certain he will lend you a hand.” She paused and her eyes widened marginally. “What year is it now? I hope he is still alive.”

“1969,” Hadrian replied, looking at her in wariness. He didn’t want to go looking for some stranger; all he wanted was to return to Milly who was probably fuming at him right now. The worry and desire to see her made him hurry to finish the conversation. “Do you know how to get to Mould-on-the-Wold from here?”

She didn’t seem to hear him as she muttered, “Oh, dear, so many years… I would have been a Grandma if not for _him._ ” She shook her head and glanced at the boy, “This was my home village. I didn’t die here, though. It was in Godric’s Hollow. I guess that Aberforth wanted me to be buried with my mother in the place where my roots are.”

“So, you must know the way, right?”

“I wasn’t outside often. But I think I vaguely remember.” Ariana rose from the coffin and stretched, making Hadrian wince at the sound of bones cracking loudly. “I _have_ been in the same position for a lot of years,” she said pointedly at his dismayed stare.

“Whatever. Can you tell me what you _do_ know about wizards? I mean, you are a witch yourself. Where were you taught?”

Ariana stared off into distance at his question. “I was… homeschooled. You see, I had a bit of a condition, so my father taught me everything I know. Although, my father wasn’t there because of a certain accident, so, admittedly, I don’t know much. Only basic spells and such.”

Hadrian just nodded. At least she had had her brother, whom she seemed to dearly love. More than a half of the children at the orphanage were much worse off, coming from the families of drunkards and druggies.

“Muggleborns usually learn magic at Hogwarts,” Ariana started and, at Hadrian’s confused stare, elaborated. “It’s a school of magic. There are others throughout the world, but in Britain this is the only one except for specialized schools. At least, this was the case in my time. I don’t know how things are now.”

Hadrian absently nodded again. “Was it painful to die?” The question surprised both him and the blonde, making her lose her radiant smile for a moment.

She pursed her lips and shifted uncomfortably as she spoke, “No, not really. My death was swift – it took just a moment. I think if you were tortured or dismembered, it would be very unpleasant.”

“How did it happen?” Not that Hadrian really wanted to know – he asked just to pass time as they began to walk towards where the village presumably was. Hadrian decided to take Kamaria with him, even if she was the most incompetent snake he had ever seen – not that he had seen many – and touching her was gross.

At the question Ariana stopped momentarily before she began to walk again. “I was murdered.” She giggled as if it were the most amusing thing in the world. Hadrian edged away from her. He didn’t want to spend time with someone who was chuckling at being _dead_.

He didn’t want to think of what would happen if she suddenly decided that maybe murdering someone else was fun, too.   

“You are not asking me who did it.”

“There is no need,” Hadrian said honestly. “Look, we barely know each other and if you can’t tell me anything about the Wizarding World, then you can show me the way to the village and after that we can part ways. You can keep you secrets to yourself.” In reality, he planned to experiment with the rope but he wasn’t telling her that.

When he turned around to look at the falling behind girl, he was surprised to find an astonished expression on her face. He decided that he certainly preferred it to the creepy grin.

Unfortunately, this blissful state of non-smiling didn’t last long and a happy smile bloomed on her thin face again and eyes danced with mirth.

“You are strange,” she said lightly, tucking a lock of her hair behind her ear.

“Look who is talking.”

“I have never seen someone like you. Do you want me to tell you my life story?”

“No.”

“You really don’t? Odd. I have always thought that people like drama. And my life had a lot of that; it must be entertaining to hear. I can tell you in everything exchange for a small favour.”

“I told you, didn’t I?” Hadrian snapped in annoyance, feeling frustration stir inside of him. He wanted to get to his friend as soon as possible; he had so many questions to ask Milly. And this girl was practically a waste of time anyway. “Your sob story doesn’t interest me at all. If I refused to listen to it for free, why would I agree to do it in exchange for something? You make no sense. No sense at all.”

“Aww,” she suddenly squealed, latching herself at him and ignoring his horrified gaze. “You looked so adorable here, acting all cynical and displeased, like a feisty kitten.” When she calmed down from her outburst, she said quietly, “Accepting will be beneficial to you, too.”

“In what way?”

“You see, I want to look for Aberforth. I don’t know exactly if he lives or not, but I have a feeling he does. If you help me search for him, I will ask him to help you to adjust to our society and tell you everything he knows about wizards. Perhaps I could even make him adopt a magical orphan like you. You won’t need to return to muggles anymore.”

“And why do I have to strain my ears to listen to your life story?” Hadrian asked, honestly confused. He didn’t want to feel the anticipation and the excited thrumming in his chest at the word ‘adoption’. But it was there, and this hope was as bad as the despair he had felt some hours ago while wandering in the dark forest because he knew that there were no good things in the world. At least, they didn’t happen to him.

The only joy of his life was his friendship with Milly, and, come to think of it, wouldn’t he be forced to leave her because of adoption? Panic tightened its coils around his chest and Hadrian felt a bit of a difficulty to breathe. No, he wouldn’t let that happen.

But if that man could tell him about Hogwarts… Hadrian could always use Milly’s connections to track him down swiftly and efficiently.

“You won’t understand if I don’t tell you everything,” Ariana said softly. “Not to mention that I was silenced for too long. I just want to get it all out and you are the only person around right now. Who knows, maybe you will fill compassion towards me and help me get my revenge.”

_‘Revenge? This is getting interesting. Well, I guess I could listen to her. Maybe she will tell something useful in the end.’_

Hadrian nodded to her and said, “Go ahead. I promise to try my best to find this man if he is in Britain. But I must warn you: if he is anywhere else, go yourself. He isn’t the only wizard in the world.”

Ariana beamed and Hadrian feared that she would hug him again. Fortunately, she restrained herself just in time and began her story, throughout which Hadrian was surprised to find himself feeling sympathy, sorrow and even anger on her behalf.

XXX

_Flashback/_

_Little Ariana stood in front of a flower-bed of withered plants, watching them with an adorable frown on her young face. She loved her mother’s daffodils; they were of such a pretty yellow colour. Because of a dog playing inside the flower-bed, however, the leaves and tender petals were battered and the girl wanted with all her mind to change that._

_She looked around. They lived close to muggles but it was evening and no one would see, right? She could use magic and fix everything and gaze at the beauty of nature again. Her mother was shopping for some books with her aloof but smart elder brother Albus, tagging the nice Aberforth along, and her father was at work. No one would see._

_She held up her tiny hands in front of her and closed her eyes. Her instincts and a profound wish led her as she willed for the plant to bloom again. The outstretched palms of her hands were enveloped in brightly glowing green light, as pretty as the slowly reviving flowers._

_When she was done with it, she clapped her hands and let out a sweet laugh._

_It was interrupted by a muted scream and a stone flying her way. She turned around, only for the stone to hit her square in the eye, making tears of pain appear in the corner of it. Falling to the ground, she raised her head to look at the intruders and saw a few boys climbing over the fence in the peaceful garden._

_“Freak! You are freaky!” One of them shouted with a venom she had never expected of someone close to her age. It hurt almost as much as the stone. “John, did you see it too?”_

_“Yeah, yeah. We have to do something. She’s a witch! I’ll tell Mommy!”_

_“We have to do something ourselves. We can’t leave it like that! What if she vanishes before we bring the adults?”_

_“Is it possible?” one of the boys asked uncertainly, his eyes flickering to the frozen Ariana every now and then._

_“She’s a witch, mate!” another boy exclaimed. “She can do_ anything! _I’ve heard that they can charm people into frogs and enchant men. I have never seen a witch, of course, but-”_

_“All right, they are dangerous, we understand. So, what do we do?”_

_“Let’s punch her.” The boy, John, decided with determination. “If we hurt her enough, she won’t be able to move. And we will bring my parents.”_

_“Oh, yeah, your parents work in the police, right? They’ll know what to do!”_

_Ariana was watching the exchange with clouded eyes and couldn’t understand why anyone would want to hit her. She doubted they would go through with it, but her Mommy had always told her that muggles were like that and she should never reveal her secrets to them, and those boys were certainly muggles, and nobody was home, nobody would help…_

_When one of them approached her and a foot connected with her stomach, sharp pain overwhelmed Ariana to the point where only her own ache mattered, and she couldn’t think about anything else._

_Other hits followed and the mindless agony was everything she felt before a numbness she had never felt before settled in her mind and limbs like a parasite refusing to go away. She didn’t hear her high-pitched voice screaming horse and didn’t know that the bruises which would appear the next day wouldn’t go away for many weeks to come._

_It was the first time little Ariana wanted wizards to have Gods she could pray to but, alas, the only possible thing for her was to beg for her mother to come and save her, both mentally and outwardly._

_When she was on the verge of blissful unconsciousness, she could hear the characteristic sound of Apparition cracking in the air and her sixth sense unmistakably told her it was her father coming home from work. Ariana’s tears of pain changed into tears of relief as she saw her assumptions be true._

_She heard her father let out an animalistic growl and immediately wanted to reassure him that everything was all right, she was still alive if a bit battered and he shouldn’t be so angry at those children – it wasn’t their fault they were born without magic and envied her for it._

_But with her throat throbbing Ariana couldn’t let the feelings inside of her be known and could only helplessly watch her father, her kind, soft-spoken, gentle father, torture the boys._

_Then, Apparition was heard once more and Ariana saw people in bloody red cloaks surround them and restrain her Daddy, who had tears streaming down his wizened cheeks. She wanted to wipe them but her hand only barely moved. And she was certainly in no condition to walk._

_Those people bound her father and took him away, and all Ariana could do was to weakly watch her proud father scream and rage._

_XXX_

_“When will Daddy come back to us?” Ariana asked her devastated mother, who had dark circles surrounding her dull eyes and whose usually impeccable hair hung limp and greasy._

_Kendra raised her eyes to look at her sweet daughter lying in a white bed with bandages covering every inch of her skin. The sight of her sick and hurting daughter made a new bout of tears stream down her gaunt cheeks. She launched forward to embrace Ariana with trembling hands._

_She couldn’t utter a word and Ariana, even in her childish mind, understood that something bad had happened and her Mommy was too pained to talk about it._

_“He is- He is not coming back, dear,” wiping away her tears, Kendra whispered, cradling her beaten up daughter in her thin arms. It was difficult to embrace her while minding the injuries and the bright blue bruises, but the woman was too shaken to deprive herself of this small comfort – of knowing that her daughter had survived the violence those wretched muggles had unleashed upon her._

_“Mother.” Came a high-pitched voice, and Kendra loosened her embrace. She didn’t need to turn around to see the person who entered. She would always distinguish her younger son’s voice._

_The next moment Aberforth took a seat on the other side of Ariana’s bed and smiled at his beloved sister, familial love shining in his eyes. Ariana grinned back, albeit in a tired and sickly fashion._

_“Where is Albus?” Kendra asked her son, interrupting the brother-sister moment._

_Aberforth’s expression darkened and he spat out with fury clouding his brilliant blue eyes, “The git is studying, like always. As if it’s the most important thing in the world, more important than family, even.”_

_Kendra rose from her seat. “I’ll talk with him. It disturbs me that he hasn’t come to visit Ariana even once. It’s his sister, for Merlin’s sake!”_

_Aberforth nodded. “He’s an asshole like that. I doubt, though, that even if you talk to him, he will do something about it. Such people never change.”_

_“Language. Why are you so hostile to him? Usually you two are always friendly and like to play together.” Aberforth and Kendra had already exited the room by this time and their voices were faint. But Ariana still heard Aberforth’s reply and it would thunder in her mind for years to come, making her experience a most profound guilt._

_“He thinks it’s Ariana’s fault that father isn’t coming back. That he is as good as dead now.”_

_Those words were like drums in the girls ears, resounding loudly and making it impossible to think about anything else._

_Her fault._

_Her brother believed so and Albus had always been the smartest of the three siblings. The most able wizard whenever their father taught them on those wonderful Sundays, he was a bright students in the muggle village, too. He never made mistakes, and this time he probably hadn’t made a mistake, too._

_Their family was torn apart, with Kendra in shambles and depression, Aberforth and Albus quarreling for the first time in years and their father forever unreachable. They were all on the point of breaking._

_And it was all Ariana’s fault._

_This was the day when insanity first sank its claws in her._

_XXX_

_“Does this place have more magical people?” asked Albus when the entire family was standing on the lawn in front of their new house. It wasn’t that big, certainly much smaller than their previous manor. But without Percival, who had brought all the money to the family and with Kendra home, they had to economize. It wouldn’t do to spend everything on a house when they had Hogwarts tuition fees and clothes and food to buy._

_“Of course, ALbus.” Kendra smiled a strained smile at her oldest son. “It was the mai reason we moved here, after all.” Against her will, her blue eyes peeked at her daughter._

_Ariana was quiet, thankfully, but the woman knew that it wouldn’t last long. Her body had mostly recovered, but mentally…_

_Numerous bouts of hysterics, flashes of anger and hatred, attempts to kill herself… Kendra didn’t know what had happened – everything seemed quite all right in the beginning – but the girl was unstable and her magic felt it, too._

_All the witnesses were removed thanks to her imprisoned for it husband, but they had moved all the same. Ariana’s sudden bouts of accidental magic were strong and alarming, and the woman could never predict what they would influence next. They were a walking danger to society, and Kendra wanted to start anew, somewhere they could live without being too conspicuous._

_It was too much to hope for when it concerned the now infamous Dumbledore family._

_“You are the Dumbledores, right?” An old woman whom Kendra vaguely recognized as the historian Bathilda Bagshot came closer with a pie in her hands. “I’ve heard that you are moving here.”_

_“Obviously,” drawled Kendra, pressing her daughter closer to her._

_“Is it because of your husband?” Bagshot neared Kendra and clutched the younger woman’s arm. “Oh, dear, to have your husband locked away in Azkaban!” She shook her head sorrowfully, either ignoring or not seeing the growing cold fury on Kendra’s face. “A wizard from an old Light family attacking muggles. Unthinkable! I fully understand why you wanted to leave your home village.”_

_“It’s not father’s fault.” Albus cut in with a displeased expression, his fingers clenched into tight fists. “It’s because of-“_

_“Anbus!” Kendra cried out but before she could punish her son for his insolence, Aberforth punched him roughly in the face with anger lacing his movements._

_“Boys! Stop fighting right now!” Kendra smacked both of them lightly, though she applied a little bit more force on Albus. She tried to ignore Bagshot’s curious eyes on her family._

_“Mrs. Bagshot. I think you should come back another time,” she said slowly, turning to look at the old woman._

_“Of course, of course. I see. Well then, I’m sure we will spend a lot of enjoyable hours together as new neighbours.” With a last intrigued glance at them, especially at Albus, Bagshot left._

_“Nosy old hag,” Kendra muttered under her breath before addressing the boys with controlled coldness. “You will go into the house right now and wait for me. Unpack for now before I think of what your punishment could be,”_

_The boys nodded; Aberforth with a sense of righteousness in his eyes and Albus with a mulish expression, belying what he thought of being punished for such measly reasons. They went into the house under the watchful gaze of Kendra, who made sure that they won’t fight again._

_“It really is my fault.” The soft statement made Kendra look at her daughter. She smiled softly, albeit brokenly, and wiped away Ariana’s tears._

_“No, it isn’t. Albus is just acting foolish. He admired your father greatly and, probably, it is him who has suffered the greatest loss.”_

_“Who do I blame, then, if it’s not me?”_

_Kendra’s eyes went cold, all the gentle warmth crept out of them as she spoke. “Blame the muggles. For everything.”_

_Confused at how people without magic who were in all ways inferior to her, according to Albus, could be at fault, Ariana nodded, her blond hair shaking with the motion. She followed her mother inside, taking in her surrounding curiously and relishing in the quite rare moments of peace._

_Blame the muggles, huh._

_XXX_

_A couple of years had passed since the Dumbledores moved from the Mould-on-the-Wold to Godric’s Hollow._

_In a two years Aberforth would go to Hogwarts, leaving Ariana alone with her mother. He didn’t study much, preferring to spend his free time with his dear little sister and to help his mother, who was growing tired and more and more isolated with every passing day._

_Albus scorned and mocked him; he, himself, was considered a prodigy in Hogwarts and everyone talked how he would become famous and great and will go down to history as a renowned inventor. The boy bwhaved humbly and modestly in public, but inside he was taking pride in the fact that he would achieve something his father hadn’t. And he wanted to bring back the glory to their family._

_The last of the Dumbledore siblings, Ariana, hadn’t changed much either in appearances or in her mental state. Dainty and delicate, she would have been a darling child in the village if she didn’t have her abysmal bouts of insanity, which had become more frequent. Now, not a single day passed without her breaking at some point._

_Like it was today._

_The girl was standing in the centre of the room with a whirlwind of magic surrounding her protectively, like a lioness would her child. Books were ripped apart and pages were floating around the short figure along with a dozen other objects. Kendra wanted to embrace her daughter but when a floating knife grazed her shoulder, she decided against it._

_“Ariana!” she screamed but her desperate shout was disregarded by the blonde. The woman fell on her kness and cried, tired of their endless struggle for Ariana’s sanity._

_“It’s so pretty, Mommy! Don’t’ you see it?” Ariana let out an innocent giggle and her face shone with joy. The bunny Kendra had given her as a present whimpered when another needle from a sewing kit sank into its furry paw._

_“Yes, dear, it’s very beautiful, but don’t you think the rabbit doesn’t want to play with you anymore?” Kendra tried, her eyes pleading and face looking even more haggard than usual._

_The whirlwind calmed, somehow, and the woman took it as a cue to come closer and clutch her daughter’s shoulders. She wanted to shout at her, scold her, so badly that it was almost unbearable, but restrained herself just in time._

_The past mistakes had taught her it wasn’t safe to criticize the girl._

_Instead, she said gently, brushing a lock of blond hair off Ariana’s face., “Now, sweetie, look at what you have done. Mommy will have to clean this mess. Don’t’ you feel even the smallest bit guilty about it?”_

_The girl’s smile melted away and she stared at her mother with hurt evident in her features. “I’m a burden?”_

_“No! I never-“_

_“You don’t love me,” Ariana muttered, looking at the floor unseeingly. “And Albus blames me. Aberforth will leave me, just like Daddy did, and I will be alone.”_

_Panic clutched Kendra’s heart; she knew what was coming. “Sweetie, Daddy was different. He didn’t leave us willingly-“ She reached out to touch her daughter but her hand was slapped away roughly._

_“NO!” Ariana cried out and the fear in her eyes made Kendra’s throat constrict with never-forgotten pain. Her touch must have reminded Ariana of her tormentors, the boys who had beaten her ruthlessly._

_The lamp began to shake and all the doors in the house creaked as they opened and closed repeatedly. Kendra knew that if she didn’t do something to improve the situation, eventually Ariana’s powers of terror would reach the fence and then everyone would know about their situation, as if that nosy Bagshot wasn’t enough._

_Despondently, Kendra grabbed her wand and she didn’t know what made her mouth utter the fateful word._

_“Imperio!” she shouted, the wand in her shaking hand pointed at the wide-eyed daughter._

_When the curse hit her, the turmoil around them ceased as abruptly as it had begun, leaving only scattered objects in its wake. Kendra stood there with a flabbergasted expression, her cheast heaving and breathing uneven. She couldn’t believe what she had just done. To curse her own child! Percival would have hated her for it._

_But Percival wasn’t there, and after careful thinking, Kendra realized that this was probably for the best. At least no one would ever find out. No one would ever condemn their family anymore for producing a mentally unstable daughter and Ariana would never be taken away._

_It was for the best._

_Kendra stooped down to place a gentle kiss on Ariana’s small forehead, ignoring the smile that didn’t touch the eyes and the emptiness in them._

_“Aberforth would cry if you were to be taken away,” she breathed in her daughter’s hair, closing her eyes and inhaling the citric scent. “He loves you so much, so much. And I, too, would be so crushed.”_

_But no one would discover the secrets of Dumbledore family. Kendra had made sure of it._

_XXX_

_When the news came that Percival had died – rotten away in that horrible place called Azkaban – Ariana wanted to cry and let her grief be known to the world. Except that she couldn’t. Imperio kept her from doing anything her mother didn’t want and Kendra certainly didn’t want Ariana to add to the dreadful atmosphere reigning in the family._

_The girl could only watch with hollow eyes notification letter that had arrived earlier that day. They weren’t even allowed to go to the funeral – Azkaban policy and all that. The girl had thought she had forgotten about her father, but now the old pain returned, tormenting her during the rare moments of lucidness from Imperio._

_Kendra hadn’t been that powerful, especially compared to her daughter, so sometimes her tight control slipped and Ariana could think for herself without the sweet voice echoing in her ears. The voice that restricted her will and whispered promises of relief even during the night. Her dreams were filled with its lulling sounds, making her meek and docile, exactly how Kendra wanted._

_The twelve year old girl wanted to share this with someone but how? She couldn’t speak her mind and, somehow, the voice in her head went away only when Albus was at home. She knew it was useless talking to him anyway – his fascination with that Grindelwald boy, Bagshot’s relative, keeping him busy._

_Ariana’s resentment of her eldest brother had grown rapidly. Being a silent observer, she could see how Albus did his best to return their family to its former glory. She respected his desire and perhaps even admired him for it. Nevertheless, she would have appreciated friendly behavior and his presence in the house much more._

_And now he was so absorbed in the other boy that he was barely there, and when he deigned them with his presence, his mind was constantly on other, secret, things._

_Sometimes, Ariana wondered what it was that kept him so busy._

_“Do you need anything?” Aberforth said from behind her before joining her at the table. He took the note in his hands and shook his head. He didn’t seem to feel as much devastation as Ariana felt but that was only understandable; he hadn’t been the reason for him imprisonment._

_“No, thanks,” Ariana replied dully, staring far off into the space._

_“Um… Do you want to talk about it? I mean, I know how our father was cherished by you.”_

_Ariana wanted to talk, to remember all the happy times they had had, when her eyes weren’t glazed by either the fog of Imperio or insanity, when Albus was still someone reliable she could call a brother and when she didn’t hate Kendra for what she had done._

_Indeed, the only constant presence in Ariana’s life was Aberforth. Her dearly loved brother hadn’t changed much, only become more independent because of the work he had to do part-time and taking care of herself and Kendra, whose health was failing slowly but surely. Whle people praised and hailed Albus for his outstanding talent and magical power, she knew that the stronger one was Aberforth._

_She wanted to tell him that, too, tell him of her admiration, but what came out was a cold “I don’t think talking is needed. I’d like to be alone.”_

_Aberfirth faltered and hurt was evident in his face. “If you say so. I just-“_

_“You should go. The train to Hogwarts leaves in a couple of hours. Make sure that you have taken everything you need.”_

_With a crushed expression, Aberforth nodded and tried to grin unconcernedly, but it didn’t came out well. He placed a kiss on his sister’s forehead and brushed a thumb across her cheek._

_“Take care, Ariana. I’ll try to come back as soon as possible.”_

_She wanted to shout him to stay with her for a bit, but the curse prevented her from it._

_Ariana understood all the reasons Kendra had to make her stay like this._

_She knew she didn’t exist in the eyes of their neighbours, except for Mrs. Bagshot, but that woman was easily silenced by the rare History books their library contained. Kendra realized that if sanity returned to Ariana completely, the girl would have to be introduced to the Wizarding World and it would be a tad difficult to explain where she had been the years before._

_Moreover, the woman was too used to her docile daughter couldn’t imagine any other life._

_That’s why it was much easier to keep the curse and make Ariana seem anti-social and mentally unstable to everyonr, even though her insanity had dwindled into non-existence during the past years._

_Her hatred for her mother was slowly becoming too excruciating to bear._

_XXX_

_She could hear them arguing._

_Kendra had died during an accident, much to Ariana’s relief and now the girl was technically free. It was such a pity that her brothers couldn’t decide whom to ship her off._

_Their voices rang loudly throughout the house and they probably didn’t think her stable enough to understand what they were quarreling about. And the subject of their heated argument was her placement. Strangely enough, Albus’s boyfriend, Gellert Grindelwald, was also present, although as an observer mostly, entertaining himself with the discussion._

_“I cannot spend all my time here, Aberforth!”_

_“And why the hell not? She is our sister! You could make yourself useful at least one fucking time!”_

_“I’m sure she can stay by herself for a little while, she is not a small child, for Merlin’s sake! You have put her on a pedestal when nothing else but her matters.”_

_“You know of her condition, Albus. What the fuck is so important that you can’t look after her for a few days?”_

_“Gellert and I are going to Paris on the Annual National Wizarding Conference. Can you imagine it? Nicolas Flamel, Newt Scamander, countless other famous researchers and Masters and inventors! This is a place our family can regain its former standing. Just imagine the connections I can make there! I’m positive that nothing grave will happen if she is left here.”_

_“Nothing grave?! How dare-“_

_Crashes resounded in the room and with dawning apprehension Ariana stared at the door. A few others were heard and she understood that, indeed, they were dueling between themselves because of her._

_“Stop it!” Ariana cried out, pushing the doors open. It hurt to hear Albus speaking about her with such disregard, as if she were merely an annoying burden, not his sister. “Enough of it. I can stay here. It’s nothing, Albus, you can go…”_

_Her soft voice was unheard in the commotion and in the flickering light of spells she doubted her presence had been noticed at all. Just as Aberforth was casting a particularly vicious hex at Albus, Arianafelt someone watching her._

_Blue eyes locked with hazel ones and Ariana felt a shudder running down her spine. She had a gut feeling that this boy wouldn’t be good news for her. He raised his hand, his fingers clutching the wand, and smiled disarmingly before doing some strange circular movements with it._

_His victorious smirk and Aberforth’s miserable scream of loss was the last thing she had heard before feeling relieving numbness carry her away._

_/End Flashback._

_XXX_

Hadrian stared in silence as the words seemed to leave the girl in front of him.

Strangely enough, he felt pity despite her being only a stranger. He could sympathize with her pain – both of them had been hated by non-magical people because of their powers and had to endure this hatred. But Hadrian had never experienced years of being silenced with a curse binding him and forbidding him from speaking what he wanted to.

It was the first time when he realized that, maybe, this Wizarding World wasn’t like the one in fairy tales and some fantasy books, where everything had a happy end and justice prevailed. It seemed like a cruel, ruthless place filled with grief, constrictions and insanity.

And people in it were like everywhere else.

“I want revenge,” Ariana said suddenly, her voice breaking the dead silence of the late evening.

“On this boy, Gellert, you said?”

“Yes. I don’t know if he is dead already, but I really hope not. I want to see the bastard _scream_.”

“Because he killed you,” It was more of a statement rather than a question because, well, he would have _loathed_ to be killed, and Hadrian was very surprised when the girl shook her head.

“It’s not just the fact that he stripped me of my life after I was finally free. I know that Albus would have been kinder and generally better if not for him.”

A companionate silence that fell on them was broken by Ariana a few minutes later.

“Why do you want to go to the village this late?” Ariana inquired. “If you had wanted to sleep, I could have shared my coffin with you.”

The revulsion on Hadrian’s face must have been evident because the girl burst out laughing. “Don’t worry, it’s soaked with anti-insects spell and many others. I think it’s even cleaner than some people’s beds.”

“I see. Still, it wouldn’t be comfortable for me. Or particularly pleasant, for that matter.” Hadrian looked up when the trees became fewer and eventually he could see the outlines of the village.

“We have arrived,” Ariana commented needlessly and Hadrian felt joy blooming inside him.

He was going to see Milly. He only hoped that she wouldn’t be too angry at him. He doubted that he could revive himself.

XXX


End file.
